One of my uncles just died. Ever notice how this always happens at an inconvenient time. Unless you're lucky, death doesn't send out any definitive warning signals. Well, I guess there's cancer. Still sometimes I think that it would be better if I had a set death date (like being on death row, hmmm). That way in theory, at least I'd stop all my wasteful excessive behaviours and focus on the things that really matter and hopefully stop pretending that it isn't going to happen to me one day.
You're never more respected by the living than when you're dead. That's when you really come into your own. Van Gough wasn't jack shiznit until he kicked the bucket. It's a damn shame. What stops us from showing appreciation before it's to late? In the case of discovering talent, bad luck may have something to do with it. When acknowledging sentiment for your close associates, well, it's too much for this male brain to process right now.
I'm sure my uncle was a great guy. I never really got to know him very well, but by all accounts at the funeral he was awesome. It got me thinking (I can't remember which self-help guru suggested this), what if I were to flash forward to my funeral in three days -- if I died today, death please fail me now. What would be said on my behalf... if people were brutally honest?
next: My Uncensored Eulogy