Few of us, upon our deaths, will receive the tributes and accolades similar to those given to the noted political journalist, Tim Russert, who died last week. Few of us have achieved the level of excellent in our professions which he had. Few of us have written best-selling books as he had.
Few of us will be remembered for our humble beginnings and for our achievements as he has been. All of us, however, like him, will be held accountable by our families, peers or a higher power for the actions of our lives and faith. This thought leads to the question: “What will be said about me when I die?”
What is it that we want said on our passing? The old adage of not speaking ill of the dead is usually publicly upheld unless the deceased is a notorious evildoer. Dictators, serial killers, assassins, pedophiles and the like seldom have eulogies filled with universal, if any, praise. Their deeds and misdeeds were well documented before their demise.
But what of those whose lives appear to be ordinary? Are there any of us whose whole lives could be held up to such scrutiny so that on our passing no one could say, “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but ...” On the other hand, perhaps our lives are held in a balance of good and not so good, with the scales tipping to the good side enough to acquit us with forgiveness from the not so good, leaving an overall sense of “This was a decent person.”
Other than “this was a decent person,” what more do we want said by others when we die? Specifically, what do we want people to remember about ourselves? Is it our sense of humor or our bad temper we want talked about? Is it our sobriety or our indulgences we want discussed? Behind the facades we all wear, do our families, friends and clergy really know who we are? Would the revelation of who we really are be shocking or expected?
Consider the thought that perhaps the facade is purposely so well constructed that no human could ever know the depths of the builder’s personality. Consider the thought that unless we want our eulogies to consist of meaningless platitudes, windows must be included in our facades which will allow glimpses into our true selves. Consider the thought of having our true selves exposed to the world. Shakespeare in his play “Hamlet” had Polonius give this advise to his son:
“This above all: to thine own self be true.
“And it must follow as the night the day,
“Thou canst not then be false to any man.”
Polonius was, of course, expecting his son to be true to his exemplary self, and not his unprincipled self.
The question posed, as everyone’s own was, “What will be said about me when I die?” After examining our own situations and selves for clues as to what might be said, just fill in the blanks of the statement for a personal analysis. “This was a
_____ person.” In addition, ask yourselves, might any survivor say, “I hate to speak ill to the dead, but ...”
All things considered, my personal wish is to allow my survivors fodder to speak some ill about me, but only a little, please. Forgive.
Claire Gaus is a retired educator and volunteers in the community in a number of capacities. She lives in Commerce.
