Making Plans

This morning, a friend of mine called to tell me another friend of ours was listed in the death notices in today's paper. He was only 58 years old. It hit me like a ton of bricks.



He was at my house less than two weeks ago talking about his new grandchild on the way and about a series of stories about his mom he was going to start writing (he was a student in my adult creative writing class for the last five years). I can still hear his booming laugh as we picked a date to meet again before the next class starts in early March.



The viewing is Sunday and the funeral is Monday. All I keep hearing in my head are the plans he was making - for his son and grand children, for his business, for his writing - all that. What happens to all those plans now that he isn't here to make sure they come to fruition?



My father died three years ago in a very sudden way like my friend. I hadn't talked to him in a while, and when I walked into his house to begin the process of settling things, there was a "to-do" list on the table of things he wanted to get to in preparation for his move to back to his childhood home. From the looks of things, he was finally ready to put his feet up and retire w/his trusty fishing reel. Because of a massive heart attack, he never got to do that it. That one thought almost broke my heart in two.



I make plans every day: for my son's college education, for retirement, for next year, for dinner. One day, I'm not going to be around to do them. I don't want my family and friends to bawl their eyes out over all the things I meant to do but didn't. It just seems so cruel...



So, what's the answer? Fly by the seat of your pants assuming today may be the very last one you spend on this planet? Or make plans for retirement and the future just in case you actually make it to that point?



This is not quite going where I thought it would. Sorry for the ramble, but thanks for allowing me to...

Felicia, I'm so sorry that your friend didn't get to carry out his plans.  Seems like life isn't fair sometimes.  I believe many of us know someone who has been hurt by a sudden loss.

My friend who is 61 has been divorced over 20 years.  She FINALLY found a man she could truly love and he truly loved her.  He would come to her home while she was in the office working, and say, honey, I'm here.  They would kiss and hug and he would tell her how beautiful she was.  I think he was about eight years older than her. 

He was a tall man (she's a tall gal), and played basketball while in college for North Carolina State University (years ago).  He was getting "fit" when she met him...exercising, eating better, getting his cholesterol under control. 

They traveled to Indiana for his 50th high school reunion and also family reunion.  His family commented on how happy he was.  He had lost his wife about 10 years prior to my friend meeting him.   His "old" friends commented on how happy he seemed.  They were having a ball on this trip.  They rented a house by the lake.  One day after most of the family left except for his children Larry (that was his name) had been swimming with his granddaughter who he adored.  He felt a bit short winded.  He was sitting beside my friend, and they were talking.  She turned around to ask him something and he was gone.  They tried to revive him, but to no avail.  He died of a massive heart attack.

My friend is still trying to cope.  They had so many plans...plans to travel, just plans.  She walked around in a cloud for at least a week.

My friend finally found the man of her life. 

When I found out I was devastated for my friend.  We sometimes have lunch together and her eyes still fill with tears.  The PLANS they made......They were so full of life and love even though it was a shor time.  She had accepted his proposal of marriage just a couple of days before he died.

I am sorry for your friend, my friend, and others who have lost loved ones who had so many plans.

Hugs to you, Felicia.

Shirley

OK - so I picked up the paper this morning and found John's full obituary. It was so eery seeing the same face that sat at my dining room table a few days ago sipping on a mug of green tea smiling up from the little photo in the paper. Until then, I hoped that it was perhaps another man with the same name and around the same age who had passed...



Just after his professional accomplishments is a sentence about his writing - about the classes he took and how he was actually a published author. That made me smile as he got his first acceptance from an article he'd written for class. I kept harping on him (and everyone else) to submit something SOMEWHERE and even made them all pick a market and bring in an envelope to mail the manuscript for our final class. The theory is that the worst thing that could happen would have only been a "Dear Contributor" rejection letter. John ended up getting a "We love it an want to publish it!" phone call.



It feels good to know that in some small little way something I did/said made a tiny difference in someone's life. It doesn't make the tears stop or make me miss him any less, but it helps a bit...

What's that saying: Man makes plans & God laughs? Something like that...



It wasn't so much that I was an important part of his life, J, just that some small thing I did - teach a non-credit writing class - touched him and made an impact, however teeny. That made me smile.



His sister said that his writing came out of the blue. It was just something he decided to put his heart into and be passionate about. And he was. I'm just glad he shared that passion with us (the class). At the funeral, we thanked his family for allowing him to share that passion with us.



I found out an interesting story about John at the funeral today: about three years ago, he found out he had a heart condition that he could either have surgery to correct or leave alone. The surgery was a tricky one, and the risk of him dying on the table was huge. If he did nothing, he could live a normal life but the doctors told him that most likely his heart would just give out without warning one day and all of a sudden it would all be over. He bagged the idea of surgery and told no one other than his adult son about his diagnosis because he said he didn't want his relatives and friends fretting over something they couldn't control. And he made it a point to live each day to the fullest because he didn't know if it would literally be his last. So, I guess that means go with the flow. If it feels right, do it. Plan for tomorrow and live for today because you never know when God will call you home...



In the casket, John was dressed in his favorite t-shirt and jeans, a roll of electrical tape in his hand and his glasses hanging out of his shirt pocket. He even had a slight smile. He looked just like he always did - and the viewing and the funeral were both celebrations of his life. The tears shed there were tears of joy from the funny stories his family told about him. It was the most wonderful service I've ever been to...

What a sweet, sweet funeral, Felicia.  Thanks for sharing. 

Deb, I think I'll tell my family to bury me in my jammies...they're so comfy. 

It's really strange how things happen.  My friend's mom was amost 91.  She had to be taken to the hospital two times in one week.  That last time she never got out of the hospital.  Although the doc's told my friend that her mom had a very bad stroke my friend had not "planned" on her mom dying.   She said she never really thought about it.  Her mom died a couple of weeks ago and my friend has taken it very hard.  Isn't it strange that no matter how old one is that it is still hard to accept.  If her mom had been bedridden for some time she could have accepted it better. 

Shirley

I think I want to to be buried in my karate gi. Ha! My non-immediate family (especially my aunts) would literally flip their lids over that one, I'm sure. I imagine a brawl breaking out at the pre-burial family meeting...



One of my friends said she and her hubby have already made their funeral arrangements. They bought their plots after she got a scary dx during a bout with colon cancer. She said they picked a spot with the best view, and she still bought a brand new car this year after her daughter graduated from college (what a way to celebrate not having to pay college tuition anymore!)...



Plan for tomorrow but live for today. I like that...

Doing well, Benita! How's your family?

Family is ok as is work and all that that entails. Karate isn't so great right now -just some growing pains with one of the places I train in, which I'm working to correct. I had promotions in early December but won't compete again until early March in a combined male/female tourney. I love to spar (fight)! Can't wait to get in the ring and test my mettle...



Karate is my stress relief. I tell my family all the time that I'm sure I'd yell a whole lot more if I didn't get to go to the dojo and pound the snot out of stuff a few times a week. Years ago, I used to think everyone on the planet should go to therapy at least once in their lives; now I think everyone should practice a martial art, lol...