I know what matters, to me. As simple and fundamental a statement as that is, most people never discover the answer until they face the inevitable. We all spend a lifetime lying to ourselves about what matters to us, but when you find yourself unable to move, about to draw your last breath, that is when you really know what matters.
So returning to the subject of Tom and funerals; what can a dead man really want? Rest assured, a dying man wants plenty. A dead man however, wants for nothing. He has everything he has ever really had and everything he will ever have with him right there at that moment. He has two things: he has his thoughts; and he has all of the time that is left to him.
The question then, is what can you really want at that moment? This is the question I've put to myself and the answer, as truth always seems to be, is simple.
All I really want, is to know that I was loved. In the time left to me, I want to immerse myself in it. I want to reflect on the bounty that has been provided me, in my lifetime, in terms of the love given and received. In such a moment, what else could matter? Where is the purpose in worry, remorse, regret? Certainly, some may have lived a life where these themes predominate. These are the ones that have saved awareness for their last moments. It is sad for them that they are left only with the shallow and superficial at the moment of truth, but that is them.
Having experienced a form of "death" without the added nuisance of actually dying, I choose to live my life differently. When my end does arrive, I will want nothing more than to know I was loved. I can measure this among the people that choose to share their lives with me. In a very literal sense, my concern does not extend beyond them.
Time is the most precious thing we possess. In my view, the way we spend it provides the measure of the man. So, the guest list at my funeral doesn't really say anything to me. My appointment book from the previous year, on the other hand, will mean everything to me. In it resides fresh memories of love and loving and of time spend in its pursuit. What more could there be?
Returning again to Tom, in my limited knowledge of the human body, I am generally aware that it is extraordinarily difficult, outside Israel, to snuff out life in an instant. In layman's terms, I also understand that most trauma associated with fatal injuries so overwhelm our capacity to sense pain that in a real sense, we don't even feel it.
Setting aside religious perspectives for the moment, it has long been my belief that the act of dying is so far removed from physical sensation that the only thing remaining is thought and time. In the time left to our increasingly oxygen deprived brains, I think we know what has happened, what is happening, and what it means. I think only the most shallow of us actually dwell on the moment. Once we know the truth of it, I believe we are left to ponder the things that were important to us in life.
Certainly, some choose to focus on what lies ahead. But we have a way of stretching time when we are experiencing an acute adrenaline response to stress (to me, death qualifies). In general, I think the dying person has plenty of time, most of the time, to consider everything that is important to them. It's in this interval, that I am confident you were well remembered. Who else offered so much kindness, generosity, and friendship late in Tom's life? You needn't have been the only ones. It's just that the number is always small, for all of us.
So I believe that your love and your friendship was well marked by Tom in his final moments. I struggle to accept that someone, for whom you would have such high regard, would squander any of his precious few remaining moments worrying for an instant who would be in attendance at his funeral. You may not have been at the funeral, but you were in his heart for as long as it mattered. What higher honor can be bestowed on a person?
My counsel then, is to reflect on the blessing of his friendship. Dwell on the gratitude you must feel, that you were able to do the things that you did for Tom at a time when we was able to appreciate them and know that he was loved. The acts of kindness, the acts of friendship you offered to me as examples of your relationship with Tom are the only things of import that any of us leave behind. With this currency, look at the wealth Tom has left with you. Look at how you used this currency to enrich his life. Look at how his nephew and most others who may have claimed to love him, lost the opportunity for enrichment and will be forever paupers by this measure.
Go get a good night's sleep and start tomorrow with a fresh perspective that lives untouched by the uncaring ignorance of those who save awareness for the moment of truth.
