Tuesday, May 19, 2009

"Final Wishes"

My husband said to me one night that he didn't think that he would live to be very old. I could tell by the way he said it, he was being serious, so I Just looked at him and said "Don't worry about it. They say only the good die young, so you'll be around for a long time".

I then became very quiet. After a short time he looked at me and said "what's wrong with you?" I said I just realized...I'm so screwed. He cracked up.

This led to us discussing things like what we would do if the other one went first, and what we would want done, should we be the one that goes first.

He began by asking me to bury him in his police uniform, and to be sure that his name plate and serving since pins were on his shirt. His logic behind this request was that #1, God would be able to identify him without looking for his name in the book, and #2, It would be readily evident to God that he had spent 25 plus years as a humble community servant. Just to Sum it up...He's looking for brownie points.

Of course, my husband, being a Christian, knows that this is all futile because when it comes time to stand before God, our lives are what they are, and we will have done what we've done. Some of us will just be in a little more trouble than others. We both also know that there will be no "guilty with an explanation" on judgment day."

At any rate, that particular part of the conversation ended with me telling him that I would do as he had requested and honor his wishes.

When it was time for him to say what he would do should I go first, it was no problem at all . . . Without hesitation, he said he would marry someone about 25, and try and move on. He said it would be tough, but life must go on, and he knew that I would want him to be happy.

When it was my turn to make requests, I said if I should happen to go first, I want lots of flowers. I let him know that my friend Tracey has been asked to check my hair, if she finds it unacceptable... closed casket...not up for discussion. I said I want my nails painted, and if the polish is left chipped in the slightest way, I will be back.

I also requested bracelets, and a little perfume. I mean the Bible does say "the dead in Christ shall rise", and I want to be presentable...I'm in enough trouble.

Another thing that I told my husband was that I expected tears, and lots of them. I told him I wanted my funeral to include a slide show of my life, and him on the front row crying like a girl.

I made one last request using an idea that I had heard from another married couple earlier in my life. I told him that he should bury me with a shovel. He immediately responded with "why in the world would I do that?". I let him know that it was completely for his benefit.

He then wanted to know how that would benefit him? I said well, when Jesus comes again, as I rise up from the ground, if I don't see you, I thought you might want me to start digging, but if you don't think it's a good idea I can live with that. "No tears past the gate", so I'm good either way.

After telling him that I hadn't given much thought to what I would do should he go first, I just simply promised to keep in mind what I had learned from him. Especially the part about how life must go on, and being happy. I assured him that I would try to do exactly as he would do, if the shoe were on the other foot.

As far as headstones go, he pointed out one in Oakland Cemetery in Atlanta, one day when we were there, that said a woman's name, followed by "Went through life merrily doing good". He said he was going to put that on mine... I , in turn, promised to put something great on his as well, like for example; "Keep the line moving".

We handle pretty much all things with humor at our house, but I will tell you that many of the above requests are things we actually want done. Neither one of us would ever take the others death lightly. In fact, we would be devastated. It's just that when you are speaking about personal desires involving death and a loss of that magnitude, it's easier to convey and receive each others wishes with a little humor added in.....

Good Lord..We have to laugh, and I can't expect the man to get all upset and cry now, when we are only discussing it... especially since he's going to have to come up with all of those tears when I do go...

Monday, May 4, 2009

"Storm Watch"

I am terrified of storms. I don't mean the afternoon/evening, run of the mill, heat of the day thunderstorms. The kind I'm talking about come in riding a warm or cold front, and have hail, high winds, and tornadic content.

This fear began for me when I was a little girl. I believe it began when I was at my Granny's house in Grant Park. It would "come up a cloud", as she would put it, and the thunder would make the windows in the house rattle. The entire house would rumble and shake. It didn't help matters much that my grandfather loved to tease me. He would say things like "Let her rip!", and "It's going to blow this house off the hill!".

This, in my little 5 year old book, was cause for alarm. To tell you the truth I was not all that brave in the first place, so it didn't take much to scare me half to death.

Granny's house sat on a hill and was surrounded by trees. The old very large oak, been there forever, type of trees. These two facts made me believe two things. one, being on a hill made us far closer to the lightening than everyone else, and two, if the lightening didn't kill us one of the trees whipping in the wind would.

As I grew a little older my fear of storms only intensified because our neighborhood was hit by two tornadoes within a two or three year period. One occurred when I was in elementary school. I was just sitting in class minding my own business when I heard this sound outside.

It was the freight train noise that everyone on the news refers to, but I remember thinking that it sounded more like a very loud whistle. Observing how dark the clouds looked outside, I felt myself begin to panic and immediately began to search my mind for any other cause for the whistle noise other than an actual tornado.

Being the little Southern Baptist Sunday school and church goer that I was, I thought Lord, just let it be Gabriel with his horn announcing the second coming of Jesus.

Who could blame me? It sounded much better to me, and the truth is, minds are always filled with religious thoughts in a time of great fear or need, so it was actually a perfectly normal reaction.

It wasn't long before I realized it wasn't Jesus coming to take me home. I spent the rest of the day with my heart literally hurting due to the high level of anxiety I had worked up. If a child was found to be in this state these days they would probably be rushed to the nearest doctor and diagnosised with post traumatic stress disorder or something along those lines.

The other tornado I was in, came about a year or two later, and I am sure the two storms are a huge part of why I remain afraid in my adult life. I have a cousin, who is like a brother to me. He calls me on occasion when the weather is bad and says things like "are you on storm watch?", or "take cover, it's coming out of Alabama, moving as fast as it can, and it's headed right for your house."

He teases me, but he loves me. I know this because in one of my houses, I had a room behind a wall in my garage where I sought shelter from the storms. He showed up at my house one night with a small roll of carpet and said "This is for your storm shelter. It's spring time and I know you'll be living in there." How sweet is that?

The older my children get, the harder it is to convince them to take cover with me, but I do what I can. My husband has never been willing to enter the storm shelter. I have opened the door and shouted things at him like "fine! Let a tree fall on you!!, or the roof!! Die!! It won't be my fault, and random things of this nature.

This usually goes on until the storm gets so bad outside that I have no choice but to close the door, and leave him for dead. I have to consider the safety of the children and myself.

As I have gotten older my fears have lessened. The new radar technology and my ability to follow the storms more precisely on the weather reports and on my laptop has reduced dramatically the need for me to remain in a constant state of panic when it gets cloudy outside.

I have also discovered that the amount of times a storm actually hits my area is substantially less than the number of times the weathermen will scare me with a warning for my entire county.

I guess we all have our issues....some people have more than others, and some seem more well founded than others. The way I see it, I could find things far less serious to be afraid of, so I'm not feeling so bad about my fear of natural disasters..I mean that's pretty big stuff...right?
 
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