I DON'T THINK I SHOULD HAVE TO PAY

I DON’T THINK I SHOULD HAVE TO PAY
By
DeBorn Luzer

Some days you get up feeling just great and right with the world and know that everything is going to go your way. Then someone knocks on the door and you come face to face with your mortality and all that it encompasses. You’ve known that this day would come, but you’ve always thought that it would be a thousand years from now, and now that it’s here you’re just not ready to deal with it. So it was with me sometime back.

It was a warm spring day and I had just finished putting on my walking shoes to go outside and sit and enjoy the sunshine and watch some of Nature’s new beginnings of life. I stood for a few minutes looking out the back window watching a pair of bluebirds checking out the birdhouse and deciding if it was suitable for their home style.

Next to the birdhouse and in the edge of the woods (and in their lack of modesty) a pair of rabbits were engaged in beginning new lives as only rabbits know how to engage. My dog, which was just an overgrown puppy, was busy out in the front making the bird’s lives miserable that were trying to find nesting material. Everywhere I looked, life was abundant and energetic. My chest swelled with a sense of vigor and stamina. I, too, was ready for new beginnings now that my pain from my accident was diminishing. I was ready to get outside and race the wind and outsoar the eagles. Such was my mood when I heard the knock on the door.

I walked into the living room and opened the door and there stood a neatly dressed gentleman, hand outstretched and smiling. I knew I had seen such a smile before. I couldn’t place where but it immediately caused me to be uneasy. The gentleman shook my hand, turned that smile on me again, and introduced himself as the representative of a local funeral home. Bingo on the smile! Right away my chest lost its swell, my breath came in short gasps, icy fingers clutched at my heart, and my conscience started to nag me about all the things I should have done in my short life. I held on to the door to keep from swaying and tried to be cordial.

I don’t know how the rest of you feel about discussing theories of life and death. Myself, I have always been able to expound at length how death is a part of living, how things come and go, and that dying is necessary to make room for the living – as long as we’re not talking about my dying, that is. There are some things I just don’t want to talk about, much less plan for, and my passing on is one of them However, my visitor caused some nagging little problems in my mind. I know, I know, conscience and morality dictate that we all should make arrangements for THAT day so the loved ones we leave behind will not have to suffer undue stress and financial hardship. But, seriously, am I really going to be wondering how my loved ones are doing after I’m gone? I mean, has anyone ever stopped to think about the poor souls who have passed on and all the worries that they have to contend with?

Suppose they aren’t exactly sure which direction they are going in and have to prepare two acceptance speeches? How exactly does one greet St. Peter, anyway – “Hi, Pete! Just thought I’d drop in to see if my reservation is ready. What’s that? But Pete, old buddy, that’s the ‘down’ elevator!” Or what are their chances of running into all the people that have gone before and thought that they had beaten them out of paying them money? Will they still have to pay up when they get there, and what will they use for money since you can’t take it with you?

Personally, I think that someone should be selling afterlife insurance instead. I maybe wouldn’t mind going so much if I knew that I had already ensured my place of choice, by making small monthly payments, of course.

As generous as the act may be, I think I’m going to put off making all the arrangements myself before I go. I didn’t have to pay to come into the world and I don’t think I should have to pay to leave it. I want my family and friends to miss me and think about me long after I’m gone and what better way than to have a statement every month showing how much is left to pay for sending me? I’ll be the topic of conversations for years to come. Besides, I want to spend my money now on living and enjoying the time I have here. If I can’t afford to give my loved ones what they would like to have while I’m here, I sure don’t like the idea of them getting it by my being gone. Everybody uses the expression “laid to rest” but how could I rest knowing that my loved ones are out fishing on the boat I always wanted, or riding around in that “hot” convertible I could never afford, thanking me for being so thoughtful of them?

Death insurance, yes. Life insurance, no. I’ve made out a will saying who gets what and where to put me when the time comes but this is one trip I’m not paying for since I’m not really asking to go. Maybe if all the people who have always wanted to see me gone would get together and chip in for the voyage, everyone’s part would be pretty small, anyway.

I do appreciate the representative taking the time to drop by and I really appreciate the calendar he left. There was one thing I forgot to ask him, though. Does someone teach them those smiles, or do they all know something I don’t?