A friend of mine lost her son a few weeks ago. He was 20 years old and there is still is no conclusive reason why he died. She just found him in his room on a Saturday morning, dead on the floor.
The first line of his obituary read that he had gone on to a better place.
That made me angry. I was angry that he was gone. I was angry that she had to go through this. I was angry that for that family nothing would ever be the same. But most of all I was angry at the whole notion of using that ridiculous phrase.
I understand why people do. It makes them feel better. Gives sense of sorts for the senseless passing. Provides solace to breaking heart.
But please, if something were to happen to me...please don't use that phrase in my obituary. There is no better place than right here, with my children, my friends, and all that is around me. No better place than being where I can see the awe in the eyes of my children as they learn something new. No better place than where I can hear their laughter or comfort their fears. No better place than where I can kiss them goodnight, and exchange big sloppy razzleberries with them. No better place than where I can watch them grow and develop into what I hope are healthy adults that will contribute positively to society.
And I can only hope and pray that I am allowed that gift every day for many, many years to come.
