On New Cars (or, Waiting For That First Scratch)

I have never liked being told what to do. When I was perhaps four or five I decided it would be a good idea to “wash” my father’s brand new car with sand. I had a grand time “helping” him. I wasn’t alone. Another neighborhood boy had the bright idea first and lured me in. Just imagine the moment my dad saw what we’d done. He was a gentle guy, but on this occasion he couldn’t even talk to me. He just handed me off to my mother. For the rest of that car’s life, it had swirls in the paint. It wasn’t malicious on my part. I didn’t really understand what I was doing. Still, I’m sure that was little comfort to my dad.

Today, I picked up a new car; new to me at least. Shiny red and clean and reliable (I hope). I traded in our well-loved 2002 Jeep Liberty to get it, and actually felt a little pang letting the Old Reliable go. It’s been a fun companion and has seen a lot of Naylor road trips and good times. But these days I am on the road a lot, and public speaking makes me feel anxious enough without the added worry of whether my car will make it.

As I was driving it out of the lot I was being extra careful with it, sort of the way I drove for the first time with my newborn daughter in the car. I’m sure that feeling will wear off quickly. But it reminded me a lot of a fellow I used to work with who, first thing every morning, dumped a half a cup of coffee all over his desk “just to get it over with.” Perhaps I should just go out there and ding it…just to get it over with. Perhaps not. I’m sure it will happen soon enough, with or without my help. Wish me happy trails!

The Final Taboo in Our Sunset Years

I ran across an article recently whose subject was the Death Cafe. Apparently it's a movement that's circling the globe. There's a website, and here's its description:

At a Death Cafe people drink tea, eat cake and discuss death. Our aim is to increase     awareness of death to help people make the most of their (finite) lives .

Having studied on and written about death at length, I found the idea of this intriguing, but also a little sad. These discussions seem to be a kind of group therapy for people who are questioning, seeking or are simply afraid, but can't talk with those closest to them because the conversation gets a big shut down. I know how that is.

I wrote my book, Gift of Death - A Message of Comfort and Hope, because I wanted to (I admit it) force a loved one to think about his approaching death. I continued it with the hope that what I had discovered and the comfort that followed, would also be a help to others who are afraid. The issue I struggled with most during the writing and subsequent publishing of the work was what to call it. My friends and mentors helped me bounce around several titles, and there were two camps. One thought that if I wanted to sell it I should avoid the word "death" at all costs. The other thought I should include the word because, well, why hide what the book is about? In the end I put it out there on Facebook, and the title you see is the one that came back with the most positive hits. 

Even so, people tend to squirm when I tell them what my book is called. One elderly woman phoned me specifically to ask for my book because she's a fan and she knew I'd been writing. She didn't know what it was about, and said she didn't care. She just wanted to read it. I sent it to her. I asked her weeks later what she'd thought of it and she admitted she hadn't even cracked the cover. In fact, it was hidden away. She explained, "I'm a lot closer to death than you are, you know, and I don't want to be scared." Clearly, she already is. To calm her fears, I basically told her everything that was in the book, and why it would be a comfort to her, but still she hasn't read it. 

The article I read said that death is the last taboo subject in our modern world, and so who better to discuss it with than total strangers. I think there's a better way. Look someone you love in the eye, and ask them this:

"Where do you think you'll go when you die? And if you're afraid, let's talk about that." 

If it's just too scary, read my book. I think it will help.