How Will You Be Remembered

On Tues. of this past week in May 2005, I was called and told my Nan had died in NFLD. She was 90 years old and it was expected. But it was not expected so suddenly. Just like with Gramps who died 5 years ago in March my cousin and I with our Moms would drive the 22 hours from Ontario back home plus the 6 hour boat ride non stop.
When Gramps died my Aunt asked my cousin and I to do the eulogy and scripture reading. We were proud to do it. We admired Gramps. But my Aunt asked us the day before the service. So just in case she asked us to do the same thing this time we both started to prepare for the service as we drove to NFLD.
We both realized in a short while that although every one mourned the passing of Nan, everyone was also relieved and thankful that it was over. We both thought we must be wrong in our conclusions and began to talk to as many of the relatives and friends of the family as we could meet. They all said the same thing. ‘We don’t want to speak disrespectful of the dead … but there will now be peace in the family.’ We didn’t have to ask them either. But it would keep coming up in all the conversations. Gramps was a super star for putting up with it all the 60 years of marriage that he did.
Even the Bishop of NFLD said the same thing in his tactful eulogy . Yes, my cousin and I were greatly relieved to hear that the Bishop was going to give the eulogy. We didn’t know what to say without either lying or hurting our Aunts and Uncles. Don’t get me wrong we all loved Nan and we all put up with her demanding , belittling and pushy attitude. A me first attitude. We as grandchildren even made fun of it as she had her way with each of her children.
But as we all said our good-byes to Nan at the grave we each shed a small tear and walked back to the limousines relieved it was over. No more zingers, or being made to feel guilty. And we all enjoyed the reunion of relatives that came from as far as BC and all points in between. We sang and drank and told many a story and we all laughed until we cried. We visited as many of the old relatives as we could knowing this will be the last time we see them alive, and we went to all the places we had heard the stories about, and we talked. It was a great wake.

Seven days after leaving for NFLD. I arrived home exhausted from the drive and the emotional ups and downs that one deals with at a funeral. I just wanted to sleep. My wife was upset and my daughter and son too.
Our dog Molly which we had had for the past 16 years was not well. And by the next day I too knew she was in trouble. That after noon my wife and I took Molly for her last car ride to the vet. We both cried all the way there. I carried her in and placed her on the examination table. Both of us bawling. We petted her head and her ears as we said goodbye. My wife had to leave and told me to stay with her until the end. I just wanted to get out of there and not cry in front of the vet staff. To preserve my dignity. But I realized I needed to be with my dog. My dog that would always be the first and many times the only one to greet me each and every day I came home from work. And always had a smile as if to say I am glad to see you back. Was always excited when I would take her for a walk. And never held a grudge when I would punish her for having an accident on the rug or chained her up in the back yard. Even in her last year when ever we came in the door she would drag herself off the couch that she now claimed as her own and wobble out to greet us and have us pet her head and then returned to the couch.
There is nothing bad I can say about Molly. Not a thing . So as I stroked her head and her ears and watched as the Doctor injected her with the needle. I cried like I had not cried in a long time for my faithful companion. And just like that she was gone.
I carried Molly out in the same blanket she had laid on and the one she died in and brought her home to where she had spent all her live. My son and I dug a deep hole next to the red current bush and gently placed her in the grave. And I cried as I watched my son place the dirt back on her in a very respectful and mindful way so as not to hurt the only dog he had known all his life. When we finished burying Molly we placed a large stone over the grave. The whole time my wife watched from the bedroom window as she too cried uncontrollably. I then sat there by the grave for some time thinking and sobbing at the lost of such a good and faithful friend.
So why have I put myself through this tortuous effort to write these events to you all the time crying and sobbing as I do. It is because I wonder just how each of us is going to be remembered. How will I be remembered by my children and grandchildren. Will they be glad to be rid of me or will they cry me a river of love like I have for Molly. I love my Nan but I miss my dog.
How will you be remembered? What is written in the book of life about you? Are you working towards the Kingdom or is this just another religion to you?
How will you be remembered? What will those who attend your funeral be saying? Will they be happy or sad? Will anyone cry a river of love for you?
How will you be remembered?

Joseph F. Dumond

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