Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Death to My Imaginary Funeral

This might sound completely crazy but there were times in my life. When I would sit alone in my room and pretend that I had cancer or some other disease or infirmity. I would die this long painful death. I would want people to feel sorry for me. To say how brave I was. How hard I fought. To feel bad for me. I would give my death bed speeches to my minds phantoms and sit and listen to millions of fans granting me eulogies of greatness as the streets of Minneapolis were clogged with people going to my funerals. In some versions of this imagination I was killed and riots broke out all over the world in response to my death.

Crazy isn't it?

I only mention it because I was talking about funerals last night with someone and they said, "The size of the funeral equals the size of the man." I found it odd that I no longer felt that way. That my worth no longer depended on the sympathy of others or how many people graced by my casket. I no longer let them keep score for me. Let anyone but me define my greatness.

I walked into the darkness and I found something inside me.

I can't tell you what it is.

I can't show you.

I am the only one who can see it.

That is the only person who matters.

I no longer think of my death in such terms.

I have moved from wanting your pity and sympathy to earning your respect by being me.

(I just waned to record this as another step in some pattern of growth that has been transforming for so long that I finally became aware of.)

I was also shocked by how many other people also had these imaginary funerals...

9 comments:

JLee said...

I think I did that when I was a little girl, because I felt insignificant at times. I would actually hide from my mom to see her panic because it made me feel important. I guess you have to look at what was making you feel unimportant or unappreciated at the time. I'm glad I don't feel that way now! :)

Fig said...

I did the hiding thing too... especially when my mom was pregnant and all I heard about was the baby this and the baby that. HEY! What about me!

I don't think about my own funeral... but I guess I'll want something small and quiet and then I want to be cremated. My mom's funeral was huge and exhausting for the family. The wake was an all day event and it was just way too much. I'd hate for my daughter to have to go through that.

Rocketstar said...

here, here.

Savy said...

I had imaginary "almost dyings" with a few funerals. I didn't want to have to die for someone to care... I just wanted anyone to care that I was alive at all... and maybe a few good soapopera moments ("Oh, Rhett!")

oestrebunny said...

I don't much imagine my funeral but certainly my death and I wonder how the people around me would react to it.

Muffy Willowbrook said...

You're experiencing growth, which is fabulous! good for you. Besides, you've got a lot to live for, no sense in thinking of your own death anymore. You've fought hard enough to live - so live!

Reggie said...

I find it interesting that while we like to think of ourselves as visonaries and unique, we are all pretty much the same. I used to think that way too. I think that mostly it has to do with finding yourself and wondering if anyone else thinks your as important as you do. You eventually realize that you are just another brick in the wall and only those around you are important.

Mags said...

I used to do that too-I think I thought it was sort of punishment for the people that were alive.

Sick as it sounds, I also wrote a "will" of sorts-telling all of the people what I thought of them and giving the advice on how to be better people. LOL...this was in high school.

Bill From Gainesville said...

My big thing is the write up in the paper. How come some of them have photos and some don't? And whats the deal with the ones whose photos are from when they were 20 or so, but they made it to 77? do they think its some kind of internet dating? I always wanted my own article with a picture in another section of the paper besides the obituaries section that was what I thought was the height of dyingness comparable to what you thought about. -- I don't think about it so much anymore, but I dont know thats because I am more secure in my self belief or not. I do care what others think about me still to this day even though maybe not so much as I used to when I was younger.