Reporting on my death
My death is not real.
I do not know when, how or what form it will take.
I have no beliefs of an after-life. That seems too human a concept to me. My death will be the end of my consciousness. It will be similar to going to sleep. I will simply not wake.
My mind has no concept of the oblivion during sleep when my consciousness no longer operates. It is a little death. There is no sadness and grief in that state for the person concerned. There is only nothingness. The time evaporates. It is empty. The sadness of death only comes with contemplation. We torment ourselves needlessly. The sadness is in the loss of this peephole into the universe. For the dead there is no perception, no sense of loss, no suffering. They simply no longer exist.
Instead of dwelling on death we should be celebrating the wonder of our lives. For this flash of time we have a peephole into a wondrous universe. It is brief, measured in seconds, and it is miraculous. We should maximise that the experience. It will not come again.
I have enjoyed it greatly. I have filled it with as much as I could pack in.
That is a life worth living.
I know I have been lucky. I have loved and been loved. I have read, written, travelled and made friends. I have tasted the best and tested the boundaries.
I shall have few regrets.
My death will be a sadness. Of that I am sure. It will be a sadness to me that I can no longer extend my vocabulary of delights, I can no longer share with the people I love and my peephole will close. It will be a sadness for people who love me.
But no regrets. We have shared and loved enough.
My funeral must be a celebration. I am writing this on a boat travelling to South America. The adventure continues. That is what must be acknowledged. If my life had been empty and mundane that might be a different matter. But it has been full. I am replete. I have already lived a hundred lives and loved as much. What more could any man ask?
Yet still there are decisions.
I vacillate between leaving my body to medical science as my brave mother did, or being buried in a wicker basket so that my flesh may return to the cycle of life. No lead lined coffin for me. I want the living things to have their fill. I have loved my biology.
I have chosen my music well – Little Richard – Rip it Up and Roy Harper – When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease are the two essentials. They’ll be lots of photos of me and I’ll write a piece myself. It’ll be good to talk from beyond the grave. I might even record something. No doubt a few other people might want to say things about me.
I need to plan it a bit more thoroughly.
Strange and ironic– that I now, planning a funeral, I need to flesh out the bones.
The thought of my funeral makes me smile.
If you enjoy my poems or anecdotes why not purchase a paperback of anecdotes for £7.25 or a kindle version for free.
Or a book of poetry and comment:
Rhyme and Reason – just £3.98 for the paperback or free on Kindle
My other books are here:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Opher-Goodwin/e/B00MSHUX6Y/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1457515636&sr=1-2-ent
Thank you and please leave a review.
Too much sadness and tears form part of every Funeral. I have told my Sons exactly what I want, what music, what Poems, even Jonathan to play on the Guitar a piece of music I love he plays. No tears just remembering times we had together on our own just the three of us and their Mother who was and will always be there for them just scatter me in Killarney the spot I love so much and then for them to live. A life can be ruined dwelling on those that have gone.
That would be nice for Jonathan to play something. It should be about the good things of a life, shouldn’t it, not the sadness.
That’s right the Boys have had enough of that, I want them to remember me, laughing at how stupid I can be (deliberately) sometimes. Be happy in whatever they may do. The piece I love he plays is that famous piece from the film “Deliverance”. There should be few tears Opher, death should be a Celebration of that life.
Too true – a celebration!
Duelling banjos!
Thing is I believe I will be looking down to see what they say about me, where will you be?
I’ll have written the script so I won’t need to be there. They might have me there in my books.
Your Wicker Basket will be festooned with your books, never know they may be rushing to buy them.
What? You mean like a Hindu funeral pyre?
I’d go off into the sky on my own words!
NO, they would be falling over each other to get one.
That would be good.
Now just imagine how much you are going to miss because you won’t be looking down, you would see them all rushing to get a copy, doing rugby tackles as the books fly in the air and you catch one! I have just seen that in my mind, what a thought.
That’s quite an image!
Just as well you can’t see me laughing.
That’s good!
Not laughing right now forgot to put a whole leg of Gammon in the oven, so late Dinner tonight will be even later, I shall just blame you. (of course I won’t, its me being nutty)
Easily done. I once put the Christmas turkey in the oven but forgot to turn it on. That proved a bit of a problem.
I bet it did, I have had to take the gammon out of the fridge for 30 mins before putting in the oven so it will be going on soon, 2hours cooking. Have no feeling for food, so hope the Boys will enjoy.
Sounds delicious. I’m sure they’ll love it. They’re spoilt!
Yes they are Opher, totally but they are all I have, plus “Daisy” who has already been barking for some.
You’ll have Daisy sitting up at the table with a bib on next.
Funny you say that, she is such a clean little eater she would be happy sitting at the table like a baby, she is my baby.
I can picture it.
Hopefully not for a long long time! Not at all ready for you to go, my friend.
Thank you Mary. That is nice of you to say. All is good right now but you never know what is round the corner.
This fuels my own ideas very well. Your posts are stimulating.
I’m glad to hear it Dave.
Reblogged this on Opher's World and commented:
When it has happened I will not know.
I want a plain wooden box. Hard not to think about death, and I like that old country song Lord, I’m ready to go. My second novel, the last one really, opens with a last will and testament, next scene the funeral of the lead character. And the rest of the book and little sequel book The Phantom Speaks, are about dramatic reincarnations of the same character (poor me) and then all kinds of tricks with the characters and the philosophizing.. One Life. When I think of writing another book, all I can come up with is more continuations and sequels to the One Life.
Bumba – that sounds like a great and original idea to me. I can see that it doesn’t really lend itself to a sequel – that would be more of the same. What you need is another original idea. It’ll come.
It’s a matter of energy. But thoughts about death, novelizing them, may help a bit on the personal level. You’ve done incredibly, a huge output.
Cheers Bumba. I love writing.