Life is fragile

Think of those left behind

An old friend died recently. We’d known each other since second grade, graduated from high school together, maintaining a close relationship during all those years.

It was a long time ago. Rather than reveal ages, I’ll just say that at my last birthday, one of my presents was a T-shirt that reads, “I survived the 60s. Twice.”

However, after high school, he and I went our separate ways and gradually drifted apart. There was no animosity or conscious attempt by either of us to break off the friendship. The friendship never ended; it just ceased to occupy as big a part of our lives as it once did.

We simply took different directions, as did many of our other classmates. We would still greet each other warmly whenever our paths crossed in subsequent years, briefly catching up with what we’d been doing, but neither of us taking the initiative to reestablish a line of more frequent contact.

It’s too late now for me to do anything but forever regret my failure to take that first step.

Most of those meetings would consist of high school reunions or, unfortunately, attending funerals of classmates, or when one of us lost a parent. That famous philosopher Yogi Berra once said, “Always go to other people’s funerals; otherwise, they won’t come to yours.”

My friend and I were big baseball fans; however, both of us were rabid Cardinal rooters and didn’t have much use for the Yankees. But everybody who ever loved baseball couldn’t help but love Yogi.

All deaths — even those that relieve long periods of suffering and pain — contain a certain amount of tragedy in them; if, for nothing else, than the finality that death brings, especially for those who remain behind.

However, the finality of our life in this temporal plane of existence doesn’t have to mean the end of everything else that was part of our time on Earth. The memories and legacies of anyone who lived theoretically can be maintained forever, as long as the ones who knew them keep those flames burning and pass them on to future generations. I’m quite sure my friend’s memories and legacies will continue.

But my friend’s death was especially tragic. He’d led an extremely full and extraordinarily productive life, having all sorts of positive impacts on the city where we grew up and where he returned to make his life after college. No one who knew him had any reason to think he did not have quite a few more years to add to that lengthy record of success.

And then, without warning, he was gone.

Each day, all over the world, there are similar examples of vibrant, loving, caring, and sharing individuals who are suddenly taken from their families and friends far too soon. We are constantly reminded of the fragility of life and how none of us have any guarantee that this day will not be our last.

However, those reminders don’t always involve someone we know, so the message doesn’t necessarily make as strong an impact as it otherwise might.

My friend had at least left behind instructions for how he wished his arrangements to be handled. I’m sure this provided considerable assistance to his family in such a stressful time. It’s a practice I recommend to everyone.

Alittle more than a year ago, the death of basketball star Kobe Bryant, along with his daughter and other passengers killed in that tragic helicopter crash, had a profound effect on me.

I don’t know why; I never met him, and was never a huge fan, although I respected what he accomplished on the court over the years. Perhaps it was just the shock of that incident, no doubt felt by many others besides me.

Not long after those deaths, I sat down one day, wrote my own obituary, and mapped out most of the details on how I want my funeral service to be conducted, leaving some flexibility for my survivors to add their own elements as they see fit.

After doing all that, I felt like a huge burden had been lifted from me, knowing that I have at least made things a little easier for my family for when the time comes by eliminating some of the necessary tasks they otherwise would have to perform.

If I hadn’t done that a year ago, I certainly would have been inspired to do so after attending the memorial service for my old friend and learning that he had taken similar steps to assist his family after he was gone. I hope others at the service who heard of his actions, or anyone who might read this, will consider doing likewise, if they haven’t already.

Goodbye, old friend. Rest in peace.