<p>About a month ago I attended the memorial service of our former choir director. We arrived at the church 90 minutes early to get in line - when they opened the church it was like Disneyworld at rope drop - it took 5 minutes for the huge sanctuary to fill up - the rest were sent to overflow locations. The guy had started his professional life as a high school band director and had ended up as respected choral conducter who traveled the world.</p>
<p>Friday I attened the memorial service of a fellow lawyer, chuch choir member and friend. The 1200 seat sanctuary was full, with overflow in the fellowship hall. Over 100 people in the choir. He had so many friends.</p>
<p>Which, of course, leads me to think about the tiny little life I’m living. I don’t have a vast network of friends around the world, or even the city. My death would not make the local news. I’m content with the little circle I occupy, but wonder if I should be striving for more.</p>
<p>Do you think you live a small life or a large one? If you have a huge circle of friends and influence, did you set out to make it that way, or did it just hapen?</p>
<p>Missypie - how eloquently you have voiced my musings. I, too, have recently been to funerals where it was evident that the person had touched many, many people. And, like you, my life has a much smaller circle. On the other hand, by nature of my DH’s work, he is known by many people. </p>
<p>I did not set out to for life to be this way, but it is how it evolved. I work from my home and my relationship with my clients is not the kind that will translate into public recognition. Sometimes I question my choices and I know that I have consciously backed away from certain opportunities because I don’t like publicity. I don’t have any answers - but I do think I am at an age where I can’t help but question what my life has meant.</p>
<p>missypie, I’ll come to your funeral if you come to mine. I like your question, and I think it’s about more than “how many people will show up for your funeral.”</p>
<p>With these men, it was a measure of the number of lives they had touched and the number of friends they had. My friend’s widow has had an outpouring from church friends, former choir members, his law firm, other legal colleagues, baseball parents, school choir parents, other school parents, the neighborhood, golfing buddies, etc etc etc. The funerals have made me reflect upon my own life and how many (or few) people I interact with and touch with my own life.</p>
<p>We really have no idea how many lives we affect. I would hope the few that attend my funeral (long from now ) are there because I made some positive impact on them and not because it was a social expectation.</p>
<p>No explanation needed, I can truly see myself sitting in a church pew as you have sadly had to do lately and think the same thing.</p>
<p>I think it has a lot to do with respect. Going to a funeral is not something that many look forward to, but usually when you go it’s because you are “moved” to attend - because, for some reason you want to show respect and appreciation for the person who died or perhaps their family. </p>
<p>So maybe look at it that way as well. Many surely attended to say goodbye to the person who died. Many also were there as a support for the wife, children or extended family. </p>
<p>I personally am pretty satisfied with my “small life” - there have been times I have been envious of others who have mountains of friends, family, neighborhood friendships, etc. - now, I appreciate and value and am satisfied with my small world of a few good relationships.</p>
<p>I want to feel that I know now while I am alive that I have touched and or helped people. I have a cousin that had a stroke 10 years ago when he was 49 and became parapalegic. He had touched the lives of his coworkers so much that to this day at least one of them visits him everyday, they have set up visit schedule and they collected enough money to buy him a motorized wheel chair once he got enough mobility back to control it. They have a Shop luncheon every month and they always rent the wheelchair bus to pick him up and bring him back to his residence afterwards. They purchased his laptop and paid for all of the programs so that he can keep in touch with each of them. He obviously had and has a big life. I would like to think I have touched enough people that if I fell sick I would not be forgotten. His experience has made me realize that going to the funeral isn;t enough but saying thank you and I care while they are around is what makes the difference</p>
<p>I’ve noticed the same thing. My in-laws, for example. She died young and unexpectedly. She was well loved in her profession and had many contacts–big funeral, many tears, much love and admiration expressed. He died old after a long illness. He had stayed home most of his life caring for his severely handicapped son. Only a few family members, long-time neighbors, and church members attended. H’s uncle (who was mentally ill, widowed, with one son) had only his son and one niece at his funeral (others were in town and a couple surviving siblings, but they did not attend). </p>
<p>Me? I’ve been a SAHM and have moved many times. I would hope that my husband (if he survives me)and children would attend my funeral! It’s been a small life with shallow roots–so far. While I hope that I could influence the world for the better, if I have done so(ever do so) it is (will be) in some small unknown way. (I always put back my shopping cart-- I’m probably not going to get a Nobel Prize for that).</p>
<p>My 6 siblings and I --plus our combined 23 kids–put on a huge 50th anniversary bash for our parents last summer.( Mom has a terminal illness.) I was so impressed that virtually ALL my surviving aunts, uncles, and cousins showed up–many traveling a long distance to be there–plus neighbors, friends, former co-workers, etc. It was awesome.</p>
<p>Now, when mom dies, I don’t really care if any of these people make it to the funeral.
They came for the PARTY, while mom was still there to enjoy it, and that’s what matters!</p>
<p>I find it hard to maintain any close friendships as a married adult. Some people we know have troubled marriages and/or very a-social spouses…hard for a married couple to just do things with the wife. So many of my friends at work are recently divorced…they are now looking for a different kind of social life and I don’t blame them. Some couples we just don’t like much as we get to know them well (they probably think the same thing about us!) We end up spending a lot of time with the other parents from the various kid ECs…as we’ve discussed on the '13 thread, few of those are “real friends” that will stay in touch after graduation…they’re just folks we enjoy chatting with at the game or the car wash.</p>
<p>I just wonder if those who have tons of friends go about it purposefully, or if they have an effortless magnatism. (With my two recently deceased friends, one fit into the former category and the other fit into the latter.)</p>
<p>This has made be think about LTS and the thousands of hearts and lives she touched right here on CC and I know all of us did not physically make it to her service. It is not a matter of wo shows up in the pews as we touch the lives of others each day (most of the time in the little things that we do) and often we do not even know it.</p>
<p>I think of the song verse, </p>
<p>If I can just help just one somebody as I travel along the way, then my living will not be in vain.</p>
<p>Note to Atomom’s family: Please mention this at her memorial service!!!</p>
<p>Actually, I love the personal stories at memorial services. My 13 year old has only been to two memorial services…she said the one Friday was great because people told so many funny stories.</p>
<p>But again that makes me think…am I doing anything in my life that people would remember fondly? I am a lawyer and attend a lot of memorial services for lawyers. Sometimes that is the only thing talked about in the personal remembrances…how good the guy was in court or whatever. My friends and I sit there horrified - what if the only thing that is said is that she could really draft a great office lease?</p>
<p>I remember when a former co-worker died, I was the ONLY one from the office who went to the funeral. I don’t know why no one else went. He was a great guy, a curmudgeon in a good way. I was very disappointed in my former co-workers. Jerks.</p>
<p>I’ll be lucky* if I’m found before the cats have devoured my corporal self and to have more than five people at the funeral, assuming there’s a funeral. This is in contrast to my younger brother, whose funeral was in a large space yet packed to overflowing, flowers everywhere (as in, trailing out into other rooms, even, out in the hallway and foyer), and at which a Congressman spoke.</p>
<p>Add me to the “small life” category, please.</p>
<p>This reminds me of an episode of “Desperate Housewives,” in which a handyman, a humble quiet man, had tons of people at his funeral, because he had in his own quiet way touched so many lives so positively.</p>
<ul>
<li>Actually, I won’t care, because I’ll be dead, but it’d probably disturb anyone who found me if I’d been chewed on by hungry cats!</li>
</ul>
<p>I didn’t mean it to be depressing. It just that when a person passes on in the prime of life, it’s a good time to reflect on one’s own life. Am I doing what I need to be doing in life? Am I a good friend? Could I be doing more to help others? (It may be sexist of me to say, but I think moms without household help have it a bit harder than dads. It’s hard to chair the charity ball when you’re up to your eyeballs in college applications, laundry, etc.)</p>
<p>Several years ago, one of my dearest friends and I attended the funeral of her ex-husband. He was someone who had achieved professional success, but was on his third marriage. At one point in the service, the minister offered an opportunity for people to share a memory of Dr. X. </p>
<p>Well, some colleagues came up, one of his newer step kids, etc., and then a young, very attractive female patient. First she spoke of him with great reverence as Dr. X, then Dr. first name, then as she gushed on he became just “first name.”</p>
<p>Fortunately, ex-wife and I were seated well in the back of the church, because til she finished we were convulsed with laughter and established our firm rule for either of our services -NO OPEN MIKES!</p>
<p>sybbie, this is a good point. I have known several people primarily through the web who died, and knowing them changed my life. I still think of them often – indeed, one of them, I think of every day! – miss them, and am grateful for their friendship and influence. I couldn’t quite swing the time to attend one man’s funeral, which was in another country, though I did seriously consider it, and the other had a small private service.</p>
) are there because I made some positive impact on them and not because it was a social expectation.</p>