Though I’m not in any imminent danger of dying (to my knowledge), I’ve given lots of thought to my death and my final sendoff.
This isn’t weird because I’m Italian, so ruminations on death were part of my upbringing, including but not limited to the times my mother, worried that my dad was very late coming home, would lay out the suit she wanted him buried in — just in case.
More importantly, I’m Catholic and a sinner and very concerned about my eternal destiny.
However, I’ve been to enough post-Vatican II funeral Masses to know that they’ve become canonizations of the deceased rather than an opportunity to pray for the soul of the dearly departed.
Reflecting on that trend has made it clear that I need to get the word out there for myself if I have any hopes of making it out of purgatory in less than a thousand years:
Please let my enemy deliver my eulogy.
My husband and children will want to recall how much I loved them, but let my enemy remind them of the times I was callous or snippy or indifferent to them.
My family will want to remember the many holidays I hosted, but let my enemy remind them of the times we quarreled because I was stubborn or flippant or petty.
My friends will want to reminisce about how we laughed together, but let my enemy remind them of the way I often took more than I gave.
My church community may value me as someone who prayed, cared, and volunteered, but let my enemy remind them of the times I was a hypocrite or a gossip.
My readers – if they remember me at all – might appreciate the times I made them think about issues or feel understood, but let my enemy remind them of my self-centeredness and shameful lack of originality.
I know that death takes the sting out of our faults and makes the people who loved us see only the good that’s left. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, and I certainly wouldn’t want anyone holding a grudge against me when I’m gone.
But I also know that, like everyone else, I’m a sinner in need of mercy. I have shirked my responsibilities, fallen short of my God-given mission, and disappointed the people I love more times than I can count.
That’s why I need to ask this last favor before my body is lowered into the ground and the last shovelful of dirt thrown onto my casket. Don’t be afraid to encourage my enemy to speak ill against me to remind everyone why I need so many fervent prayers said on my behalf.
I’ll repay the favor by praying for you all — but mostly, by praying for my enemy.