You Meet the Nicest People

I went to a funeral today for a client of mine. I have only known her for a few years, but she was just a great gal and we got along really well right from the first day we met. She was introduced to our firm by her realtor--another great guy, whom I also liked right away when I met him. She had a lot of legal problems and we steadily worked through them all. When we were finished with her legal case, she brought me her personal estate planning to look at. I gave her some advice, but she made up her own mind about things. Hearing the story of her life today at her funeral had me nodding my head--yes, independent and stubborn--that describes her very well (and she had a great laugh too).

When I first met her, she told me about a lady she hired to conduct an estate sale--that was Keri, whom I met and liked alot and ultimately hired to handle my Aunt's estate sale. I have since recommended Keri to two other estates and have had glowing reviews, such that I am always grateful that my client made that introduction.

My client knew that she was dying--she was basically given two months to live by her doctor (and she took four), so she set up her funeral arrangements herself. She personally met with and arranged the pastor who would conduct the service.

The priest has a thick irish accent and told jokes all through the service. He told us a story that he told my client before she died about a near death experience that he had. One day in 2006, he had a pain in his shoulder when he woke up. He had had brocitis in that shoulder years ago, so he figured it was coming back with a vengence. Then he had the pain in both shoulders and he felt a heavy weight on his chest. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his assistance pastor and a Saint nun who had started the order of nuns who taught him through grade school. Now for a priest to see another pastor and a nun is not a big story, except, he knew them both to be dead and yet there they were big and real as life. So he joked with them and said, "Is this the big one?" the way Stanford always did on "Stanford & Son". He said the assistant pastor just smiled, but the nun said, go and take two aspirins and cough. So he's no fool, says he, and he goes and takes two aspirins and coughs. Then like any person having a heartattack, he gets in his car and drives himself to the hospital. As he is approaching the hospital, he remembers that it is almost impossible to get a parking space and he's not sure how far he can walk, so he says a little prayer asking if it might be possible to get a parking space. Sure enough there is a spot right next to the door, and he staggers in stating that he's having chest pain and the emergency room flies into action wisking him away to surgery in no time at all.

Later his doctor asks him, how did you know to cough? What's he supposed to say--the nun from the pictures all over his grade school told him too? It turns out several months later, that it became reccomended that patients having a heartattack be advised to cough, because that stops the heart from defribrulating.

The moral of his story was that we don't ever really die. He told us that the word cemetary was invented by the Catholics--it means place of rest--our bodies are just asleep waiting for the resurrection. After death we will all meet again waiting for the next phase that God has intended for us.

This explanation feels comfortable to me. I've always felt that Mom and Karl and Matthew and Mary, Urs and Bea are all somewhere hanging out--that this life is just a stepping stone to the next life. This priest is a kindred spirit and I'm so glad that my client introduced us. She was really great that way.