How one new angel looks on in amazement as the family tries to guess what the right decisions might be.
Hi, my name is Pat. I am new here in Heaven. What's your name? Robin? It's nice to meet you. Are you new here, too?
I thought the admission interview with that guy, Peter, was going to be a toughie. I was relieved. He didn't ask too many questions I couldn't handle. He said that any shortcomings in my human life were more than offset by the way I always kept my family together. He seemed to like that. Apparently omniscience is not part of his job description. Well, anyway, I'm in!
Robin, you are really the first person I have had a chance to talk to who was not a Heaven "official". I hope I don't bore you, but I just have to talk to someone.
I guess I got really quiet when Peter was rattling on and on about my keeping the family peace. It probably looked like I did a good job, but, on my way out, I saw some things that made me wonder.
ATTENDING MY FUNERAL
I didn't know that you got to attend your own funeral. What a kick! I saw people there I didn’t even know I knew. I saw a few I didn't think really liked me that much, bawling like babies. And, I saw a few dry eyes that surprised me, too. Then I had to laugh about Mrs. Pickleheimer bringing that grocery store potato salad and then talking about how she had to rush to get the potatoes peeled and boiled so she could get to the church on time. It was a hoot! And, no one believed her any more than I did.
But, enough of that silliness, the real joy is, I did not feel any pain watching all of that. Well, the dying part wasn't all that fun. It had all the awkwardness of transitioning into the next phase; sort of like birth, I guess. Not all that comfortable, but soon forgotten.
No, the pain I did not experience was about things that, in my human form, would have made me a basket case!
I spent my whole life keeping the peace. Sure, I had to tell one child one thing and hope she kept it a secret so my son wouldn't know and feel jealous. And, the other way around. I might have promised a few things I didn't really want to promise in order to keep the peace. And, a few things I did't really mean. I figured everyone would forget about them eventually, anyway.
I guess one of the things I learned while attending my funeral was how few things children forget when their own parent told it to them. I was surprised, but, thank goodness, I did not have to be there to mediate that fallout.
Robin, I have to tell you, this is an amazing feeling! Such peace!
But, shortly after my death, I have to tell you there was not a lot of peace among those I left behind. Oh, my goodness! I really never knew the true fabric of the people I used to proudly call "family". I am sure glad I cannot feel it in my present state, because it got 'right ugly' down there, as my own mother used to say. Which reminds me, I need to catch up with her and ask about a few things she forgot to mention before she left, too.
PLANNING MY FUNERAL
The whole thing started with planning my funeral. I always assumed that after all these years, my kids would know what I wanted. We spent enough time together on holidays, anniversaries and other people's funerals. I felt sure I had let them know how I felt about certain things.
Well, it was as if they were planning the funeral of a total stranger! Frankly, if I could have felt it, I would have been embarrassed -- mortified, to coin an ironic phrase -- to think my family could behave in such a way to each other in front of perfect strangers. I could have died! Oh, (giggle) that's sort of redundant, isn't it?
The whole thing would be funny if it were not so sad. Let me tell you how it all started. I was just sitting there watching TV and I guess I nodded off to sleep. I was feeling a little depressed over some phone calls from the bank that were weighing heavily on me -- remind me to tell you about that in a minute -- and it was good to relax for a while. Well, the next thing I heard is this scream. I was jolted awake in an instant.
Well, I was so confused! I was sitting on the top of my bookshelf looking at -- me! My oldest daughter had come by and had let herself in. I was sitting in my chair, but I guess I was dead because she was pushing and pulling on me and crying and making all sorts of noise. This sort of amused me, because she had not really had many kind things to say to me in the last little while. So, now she was all shook up because I had died. I think she was even a little angry, like I had let her down or something. Go figure!
Well, she called the emergency people and they rushed in and poked me and prodded me and looked at each other like they had some sort of secret they did not know whether to share. Finally, one of them turns to my daughter and said with this very serious look , “Yes. We can confirm that this person is dead.” I almost fell off the shelf laughing. What kind of news is that? I guess he is sort of used to these situations.
Robin, you know, since my position in all of this was sort of new to me, I was not sure what happened next. I might have drifted off for a few minutes -- I find that is very easy to do now. The next thing I heard was all this shouting. I have no idea why, but my daughter who found me apparently called my son first and forgot to call my other daughter. She just happened t come by and saw all the commotion and came in.
Not that it mattered the way I see it, but somehow the daughter that was not called decided she was somehow being slighted and was pitching a tizzy. They say that grief will do funny things to people, and they express it in strange ways. This was strange. If I had been alive, I think it would have made me very upset. I am glad I wasn't.
The only reason I am telling you all of this, Robin, is that this was just the first chapter in a whole series of events that continue even to this day. I decided to come on up here for my admission interview and to get settled. I don't even like to even think about the turmoil among my family rigth now. If I could feel, I guess I would feel guilty about creating the situation by not simply talking to my family about these things when I was with them. I could have made all of this easier, I guess. I just never wanted to talk about it.
I actually wish they would have brought up the whole end-of-life subject to me. But, I guess they did not want to talk about my dying for fear of making me uncomfortable. And, I did not want to talk to them about it, because I did not want them to get worried about me. We just never got around to it.
The next part gets even more interesting. Now my children have to decide what to do with me. They have no idea. They had never thought about it. Neither had I, really. I assume they thought I would live forever. Actually, I probably thought the same thing. If I had given it much thought, I might have done a little more to prevent the chaos that ensued as soon as they found me "asleep".
All of a sudden, there are dozens of questions. Questions about my "disposition", about my funeral, who needs to be told, who should officiate at my service, who should speak, what charities should benefit from "in lieu of flowers" and probably 50 or 60 more that my poor kids have no idea how to handle.
Heck, Robin, I knew every answer. I could have made it all so easy.
If I had only told them when they could hear me.
So in the absence of the "keeper of the peace" there was none. During those few days, if these kids had been asked about the color of the sky, they could not have agreed. It was fascinating to watch, but, like I say, I did not feel a thing. It just seems like I should have.
Robin, I know you have an eternity here, and I don't want to bore you. But, I'll just sort of run the highlights past you. You might find it amusing.
THE FEUDS
Round 1: Cremation or Embalming? I guess I have thought about this off and on during my human existence, but I never came to a conclusion in my own mind. Imagine what it was for my children! Right after the paramedics left with my empty body, my son told the daughter who had called him first that he thought I would prefer to be cremated. Now, I don't know if my other daughter, still miffed at not being called sooner, was just trying to be contrary because of the earlier imagined slight or she really believed it, but she immediately "did not want my body 'desecrated'".
So, Robin, I was floating about five feet over their heads and truly feeling peacefully ambivalent for the first time since I graduated from kindergarten. I knew the empty body the paramedics just took away was as useless to me as the snake skins I used to find as a kid. I really did not care. Well, Robin, you would have thought these kids were going to decide a presidential election in Florida the way they went at it! And, each of them felt they were representing my opinion. And, even I didn't have one.
It went down hill from there. They finally decided to embalm my body and bury me. That was fine with me. But, it was just the beginning of the arguments. They squabbled over everything from the music at my funeral to the time of day for the service. And, the funny thing was I really did have opinions about those things. I guess I should have told them sooner.
Round 2: If I could have felt embarrassment, it would have been at the funeral home when they got into a row over the casket. One child -- my practical one --argued that the casket would only be visible for a few minutes and there was no sense in spending $12,000 for it -- again claiming to know "how I would have wanted it". (In this case she was right!). Another accused the first of being "cheap" and wanting to save money from my estate to increase the inheritance -- there is more on that in a minute, Robin. You will laugh -- well, maybe not.
The third one screamed that it would not have been an issue at all if I had been cremated, and refused to participate. That poor funeral director! Well, this went on for over an hour. It was like watching a bad movie on Lifetime Television.
Probably to save his own sanity, the funeral director mediated the situation and they decided on a "middle-of-the-road" casket -- frankly, still more than I needed, but everyone was able to move on. Note, I did not say everyone was happy. I guess I should have told them my feelings about that stuff.
Round 3: The next round of squabbles involved getting me ready. Things like my burial outfit and how my hair had to be just so, and whether the casket should be open or closed. Tempers really flared when the funeral director asked if my wedding band should stay with me or be removed before the casket was closed. More of that noise about my ‘estate’, who would get the band, what it was worth -- like they could actually sell it!
They ended up removing the ring and haven't yet decided who is going to keep it. But, you know, Robin, the band was not all that valuable monetarily, and it certainly would not be anything I could have brought here, but it was a part of that old empty body for nearly 50 years. I just wish they had let it stay on my hand. I probably should have mentioned that somewhere along the line.
I have to chuckle. Here are these children who have not had a clue about what I wanted for Christmas or my birthday for the last 20 years now all claiming to know "what I would have wanted". If only they had known! And, I must admit, I did not do much to help them.
So they had the service and it was actually pretty nice. Not exactly what I would have wanted, but, given the information they had -- and no one to really guide them -- my kids did a pretty good job of it. The only thing I think they forgot is how I just detest lilies! I know they are sort of traditional at funerals. Maybe that is why I just never wanted them at my funeral.
Well, of course, Robin, the entire place was filled with -- you guessed it -- lilies. Acres of lilies. I just had to shake my head in wonder. Not that it really matters now that I am here, but how could they not know that simple little thing?
THE DAY AFTER
If I still had the capacity to feel failure, I think this is when I would have. Long before my spouse died, we had a will drawn up that was fairly simple and clear. I guess that was nearly 25 years ago, though. Well, after I lost my "better-half" last year, I decided to have a new will drawn up. You know, Robin, I was always a simple person. I had a simple estate. But, the executors we named in the old will were dead now -- though I haven’t seen them around here since I arrived -- and, I just felt I should have a new one.
As you might be able to tell, my children are a bit -- how should I put it? -- "competitive". When I was in my human form, I expended a lot of energy balancing them. Way too often it was a matter of limiting the amount of information that each knew about the personal or financial relationship I had with another one. I thought I did a pretty good job of keeping secrets. Maybe too good.
Truthfully, Robin, I never wanted to play favorites among my children. But, you know, some have greater needs than others. And, just like people who are not members of your family, there are just some you like better than others. As a parent, I loved all my children. It is just that some are a little easier to be around. So, I kept some secrets.
I guess I needed to balance things out. I had loaned my son quite a bit of money. The others did not really know. I had wanted things to get balanced out when I died and planned to use the new will to do that. The problem was that all my kids were around the house helping me out from time to time, and there really was no good place to keep it. So I had it stored away from the house.
I guess I should have made a note or something to let them know where it was. If I were back in my human form, I would have felt some anxiety watching them hunt for a more recent will. None of them could believe that the last will was over 25 years old. They searched and searched, but never found it. I did not let them know enough to be prepared for this unexpected event. Robin, I swear, I just thought I was taking a short nap!
Well, I thought I raised him better, but my son took advantage of his sisters. In the absence of any information from me, he told them that the money I had loaned him was a gift! Can you imagine?! I guess his financial troubles overpowered any morality I tried to instill in him as a parent. My one daughter, the one who probably needed my little inheritance most of all, sort of went along with it. Her brother has her completely snowed -- I guess, just like he did me.
My other daughter saw through it immediately. She has not even spoken to him since the funeral -- and I predict she never will. And, Robin, I know it was not about the money. It was not all that much to begin with. It was about the loss of trust. I could have prevented all that if I had just been prepared. I could have let everyone know what I was doing -- even if they did not know the whole story -- until I took this sudden trip that led me to meet you.
MY SECRETS, MY FAULT
I guess I should have known better. I told you earlier I was so tired and needed to take a nap. Back when I could feel, I felt shame, rage and fear. The banks had started calling. I had co-signed the notes with my son and put up all of my property as collateral -- even my own home. But, he was not making the payments. I don't think he was even working that hard at his business. The banks were calling me, now. I was feeling fear, because no one knew but me and him. I felt very alone. And, very scared. No one knew.
I could have probably prevented most of this if I had just written more stuff down and let my other kids know where I put my notes. I am so glad I can't feel any regrets now. This Heaven thing is really wonderful for the old guilt reflex, isn't it?
But, Robin, that was only part of it. It got worse! The money was one thing, but these kids all grew up in the house in which I eventually died. There were little artifacts that had been part of all of their lives. I had always assumed they would split them among themselves and be respectful of each other when I died. And, perched on my bookshelf, I watched them agree to do just that. I had hope! But, as it turned out, I think I might have failed as a parent. If I could feel right now, I think I would be crying.
As I said, things started out OK. They all agreed not to come into the house and take things. My one daughter, the one who thinks her brother hung the moon, "accidentally" left one of the doors unlocked. I guess this gave her the cover of innocence when my son, that scoundrel, and his wife -- who gave me some wonderful grandchildren, but turned out to be cut from his same cloth -- decided to break the agreement with my daughters.
One night they came into the house and took lots of small things. Robin, they were not worth much, but they were the fabric of our family. Photographs, little trinkets from family vacations, little gifts I had received. Nothing really. But, everything that had meaning. They just wiped me out. And, when questioned later by the others, "didn't know anything about it".
They were the kind of things I could never have listed in my will -- if I even had one they could find. It would take pages to list everything. But, Robin, as I sit here, I know in my own mind exactly who I would have wanted to have every piece. It would have been so easy to simply write all of that down. Some of the pieces should have gone to grandchildren. Others to friends. One or two to my church. But, none of that happened. If I could, I should probably feel shame. Shame for them. Shame for me.
I just wish I had planned better. I just was not ready to come here. Sure, I am glad I'm here, and all. Just not so soon. It looks like I had a few things to finish up first.
THE CASUAL COMMENT
And, you know when I told you earlier, that I would say things and forget about them and assume everyone else does, too? Boy was I wrong!
I guess it was Thanksgiving about 20 years ago. I had this odd looking lamp that we got as a wedding present from my brother and his wife. It was a nice piece, but sort of odd. Well, this one Thanksgiving we had the whole family in. All the cousins and kids.
Some time during the clearing of the table, my sister commented on it and said how nice it was. I guess I offhandedly said, "Well, when I'm gone, you can have it." End of story. Robin, it went through my head like the wind. I never thought of it again.
Well, I am not sure why he thought so, but my brother decided that, since he had given it to me to begin with, he should have it back when I died. My sister dragged up my offhanded comment twenty years earlier and claimed it for herself!
So, get this picture, Robin. My empty body -- without my wedding band -- had not been in the ground three hours. All these people were sitting around my house eating food that had been brought in from everyone I ever met, I guess. I was perched up on the bookshelf watching all this. Conversations were pleasant. They were saying nice things about me. I was so pleased to be remembered so fondly. Though I couldn't really feel this either, I had this great sense of being respected and loved -- and missed.
Well, two voices started to rise above the rest. Not loud. More like hissing when people speak through clenched teeth. My brother and sister. They were hissing at each other over this stupid lamp! Back and forth. I guess they thought that by hissing instead of shouting they were not being noticed. They were. People were just too embarrassed or polite to let them know they noticed. But, all those nice, pleasant things they were saying about me sort of stopped. That was disappointing. I had the sense of liking them.
Well, I guess my sister won the hissing contest, because the next thing I knew, that odd lamp was in her car and on the way to her home. She just left!
One of the things I have learned since I got here, and I am not sure how I will use it yet, is my ability to see into the future. That is a neat trick! And, I am not too practiced yet, but I tried it out on the lamp incident. Here is what I saw.
My brother and sister are older and, presumably, more mature than my adult children. For years into the future they will meet at family events and be very cordial. But, there is a still coldness between them. Over a silly table lamp! And, you know, Robin, I could have prevented that, too. If I had only acknowledged my sister's admiration for the piece and made a note of it.
I guess my brother wouldn't have liked my decision, but I could have at least had a chance to work it out logically between them and keep the peace. Now, they will have this 'thing' that keeps them just slightly at odds even though they will always be "polite" about it.
WOULD-A, SHOULD-A, COULD-A
Robin, I don't know if Heaven makes you smarter or just gives you a better view. I know I would have done things differently.
I could have kept my secrets, but kept them in a place where, when the time was right for them to be revealed -- like coming here -- my family could know what I wanted and could have respected my wishes.
The things I accumulated during my lifetime, both money and trinkets, should have been distributed in a way I wanted, not by those with the loudest voice and the strongest arm.
I would have had all my papers in one place -- even if I had sealed them for privacy. My kids would have known exactly where to go when I left. It would have saved them hours of fruitless searching. And, probably lowered the tension a notch.
I should have written down what my thoughts were about my final tribute and prevented all the guessing -- mostly bad guessing -- that occurred around planning my funeral.
Robin, if I could feel, I would feel guilty now. I would feel guilty for not doing the things that would have been so easy. I could have accumulated all that information and all my documents in one place that could have made so many other lives so much easier when I left.
Do you think Peter really knew all of this and figured I just needed a break? Oh, whatever. I'm in!
So, enough about me, Robin. Tell me about you.
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The preceding story was written by Roger McManus, compiler of From Here to Hereafter: Everything My Family Needs to Know. The volume was designed to address all the issues 'Pat' raised and much more. Pat's story is an amalgamation of several experiences reported to Roger during his research for the volume. For an article on exactly what you can do to prevent Pat's problem from being yours, click here: 12 Things You Should Do For Your Family (While You Can) . That article will link you to a full description of an organized system you can use. If you wish to go there directly, go to From Here to Hereafter: Everything My Family Needs to Know.
