I think most people would like to be remembered after they’ve pa ssed away. Passed Away. Doesn’t that sound like something caused by a gentle breeze? “She was here a moment ago, but suddenly…..she passed away. Did you look behind the forsythia bush?”
I’d like to be remembered. Not necessarily on a world-wide scale. Nationally would be fine. I’d like to think I had a positive influence on people; caused them to rethink staunch beliefs or to laugh.
My brother, Wayne, mattered to an infinite number of people. I hadn’t realized all the lives he touched until after his death, when people came from all over the world to pay their respects.
As executrix of Wayne’s Will I discovered how special he was when I stared, in disbelief, at a two page addendum on which he listed gifts he wanted me to distribute to people who had been in his life. He bequeathed books, his Broadway Playbill collection, articles of clothing, jewelry, paintings, pieces of furniture, theater tickets and – to one fortunate couple – plane tickets to anywhere in the contiguous United States.
Over the years my friend, Carol, and I have discussed the tremendous similarities between my brother and her son. Like Wayne, Steven has a good heart, magnetic personality, zest for life, and legions of friends.
A recent phone call to his mother revealed yet another likeness they shared.
“Mom,” he said, “If something should happen to me I want many of my belongings to go to people who have mattered in my life.”
“That’s a beautiful idea,” Carol said.
“I want you to be the one to distribute them,” he added. “Get a pencil and pad and write this down, okay?”
“Uh……………………okay.”
“I would like my two favorite paintings – you know which ones – to go to John and Marion.”
“……………………Uh huh.”
And my collection of Beatles memorabilia has to go to Sonya. She’s been drooling over it for longer than I can remember.”
“………………….. Uh huh.”
“Let Max pick through my suits and shirts, okay? We’re the same size and he loves my taste in clothes.”
…………………….”Uh huh.”
“Mom? You’re so quiet. Are you writing all this down?”
“Actually? No.”
“Why not? This is important to me.”
“Well, if it’s important to you, then I suggest you make a list and attach it to your Will.”
“But why can’t you do this for me?”
“Because,” she answered, “I won’t be here. The minute I hear of your death I will drop dead, so don’t count on me to do any of what you’re asking.”
For years I have thought about leaving mementos to friends. I went so far as to sit down one afternoon and sift through my jewelry, my books, and my clothing to decide who should get what. Three hours into the project I had not made even one decision. How could I possibly determine what to leave friends when I had yet to figure out what to leave my children; what they would want, what they deserve, and what they won’t fight over. My daughter has often reminded me that our tastes are considerably different, which only adds to my confusion. I have lots of gold jewelry. Abby doesn’t like gold jewelry. She loves silver, so when I told her she would be getting my mother’s beautiful wide banded, art-deco gold watch withthe inscription “To Evelyn, Love Joe” on it, she responded with, “I can always have it dipped in silver.”
SAY WHAT??? People have silver dipped into gold…never the reverse. It was apparent I would have to find someone else to leave my gold to.
My estate lawyer instructed me to make a Codicil – a list of personal items I want everyone to receive – and attach it to my Will. I worked on that damn list until my head started to throb.
Finally I realized that to do this I needed two things: decision making and organizational skills. I’ve never had either.
After thinking it over, I have decided not to die. Too much time and money have been invested in the care and upkeep of this body to bury it. I’m far too controlling to leave all future decisions to others. I’m much too curious to not be here when technology has cars avoiding traffic jams by lifting off like helicopters. I intend to be here when America no longer relies on foreign countries for oil. I plan to see the results of stem-cell research. I want to see the day when marriage is officially obsolete, when they’ve found a cure for all forms of cancer, and the average life expectancy surpasses 120 years. And, I definitely want to be around when Israelis and Palestinians shake hands and mean it.
Lastly, if I should happen to end up behind a bush, it won’t be a forsythia. Look for me in with the daisies. They’re prettier, and forever.
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