"Everyone told me it would happen one day but that's simply not something I wanted to hear, much less experience. Once again I didn't get things my way! That's been the story of my life all my life... I apologize for making sweet Bonnie wear No Frills jeans when she was little and for 'red-shirting' Scott in kindergarten. Apparently each of these things was humiliating to them but both were able to rise above their shame and become very successful adults. I'd also like to apologize to Mary Ann for tearing up her paper dolls and to Betsy for dating a guy she had a crush on.... So… I was born; I blinked; and it was over...."
From the obituary of Emily Phillips, written by Emily Phillips, who died at the age of 69, 29 days after learning that she had pancreatic cancer.
ADDED: The obituary made Neo-Neocon think of the play "Our Town" — "It goes so fast. We don’t have time to look at one another" — and a couple other literary things.
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28 comments:
"So… I was born; I blinked; and it was over...."
Pretty much.
Seems like she had a pretty good life though a shorter life than the average.
That is a fabulous opening (and closing) line.
All that, plus she looked really really good in a swimsuit.
I notice that the story title at the link – at ABC "News" – is "Self-Written Obituary of Mom Who Lost Cancer Battle Will Melt Your Heart".
Be it known that I despise heart-melting news, almost as much as I despise tear-jerking news. But not nearly as much as ironically-sad news.
Crap like this makes me start to think that rhhardin is actually right about everything.
A friend of mine died suddenly from pancreatic cancer. It seems to kill very quickly.
A wise old Hindu doctor told me, "God always wins because we all die in the end."
But he tried to live to the end. He had divorced his wife and married his Office Manager25 years younger than him. But when a Federal DA went after him on hoked up billing practices charges like Menendez's friend, he lost everything including her, since she abandoned his sinking financial ship. I understood them both.
La Rochefouchauld would probably say that as a man gets older his money gets extremely valuable.
Crap like this makes me start to think that rhhardin is actually right about everything.
My sentiments too, Paco.
traditionalguy wrote -
"La Rochefouchauld would probably say that as a man gets older his money gets extremely valuable."
Wow! No kidding. And by man I would take that to apply to both sexes.
Of course rhhardin is right. About everything.
Ah well, what's wrong with going out with style and grace?
Since life itself is a terminal disease--nobody gets out of here alive, I think we're all a bit curious about what will take us. For some things--like pancreatic cancer or ovarian cancer, it's pretty quick.
For others--like Alzheimer's, it's a long prison sentence in an unwilling body until you're gone. (Tomorrow morning, I'm headed to the funeral of an older friend who died from Alzheimers).
Sticky sweet--saccharine, banal or whatever you think of the woman's obituary, she had a modicum of style. Nothing wrong with that.
Two things.
First, thanks for posting this, Althouse. Unlike Emily, I've had the good fortune to have more time to work on my obit. It's been a wonderful diversion for me as I've moved through treatment and Paliative care to hospice, which began 3 days ago. Lots of laughing and crying involved in this sort of thing, but that's good. The I'm glad I have these flurries of activities and lists that allow me, and those closest to me, to keep busy and occupied as I head down my road. Today, I started pimping out my new Rollator and digging out an old Nikon camera strap to put on my pain pump pouch to be a little less obvious when I go out. Things like that. Plans big and small. Music and surfing breaks like the one I'm on at the moment. Highway 61 Revisited. Some glorious, homemade from-the-bean chocolate a colleague made for me, melting on my tongue. Life is more wonderous than you can possibly imagine, and death is just a part of the road I'm on.
Right up to the day she died (and after) she was trying to put strength and courage into the people she loved. That's how I read it.
Oops! Two things.
Second, this sort of journalism is tricky, because an intelligent reader or viewer knows they're being manipulated into having a cathartic experience. Emotion sells advertising. Tears and laughter. Tragedy and comedy dancing their dance down through time. Journalists hit the two ends of the emotional spectrum while largely ignoring everything in the middle, where the real action is taking place. It's tacky, but necessary. Death is part of life. Best get on with it.
There is no such thing as death.
In nature nothing dies.
From each sad remnant of decay
Some forms of life arise.
Charles Mackay
Good luck, Chef Mojo. I hope it goes well. And not too soon.
"A friend of mine died suddenly from pancreatic cancer. It seems to kill very quickly."
It seems that way mainly because by the time any symptoms present, the cancer has already been growing for some time, and the period in which it might have been arrested and provisionally "cured" is past. My mother died from pancreatic cancer, (also in Jacksonville, Florida, of which Orange Park, where Emily Phillips died, is a sub-community), but she made it to age 80. From diagnosis to death was six months, which is the average for pancreatic cancer deaths, but in retrospect, some of the signs of pancreatic cancer were present for a year or two before her diagnosis. (For one, the development of diabetes, which is sometimes a sign of pancreatic cancer.)
Yes, life is but an eyeblink.
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., when asked (at age 95) whether he was afraid to die:
"When the Great Panjandrum asks me, "Oliver, are you ready to go?" I'll say, "If it's all the same to you, Great Panjandrum, I'd just as soon wait another fortnight.
Thanks for being with us, Chef.
Way to go.
When the Great Panjandrum asks me, "Oliver, are you ready to go?" I'll say, "If it's all the same to you, Great Panjandrum, I'd just as soon wait another fortnight.
I think the first point is that when you stop giving that answer, you ARE ready to go. The second point is that the Great Panandrum doesn't care all that much about your answer.
Hey, Chief. Did you ever look as good in a bathing suit as Emily? In a male way, of course. No evidence required. We will take your word for it. And thank you so much for reaching out to us.
Chef, it is great fun reading your comments on this blog. So glad you're here.
If, like Chef and Emily, you can look back with such good humor, then you won the hand, or at least as much of the hand as God lets you keep......I'm in my seventies. I'm in good health but according to most actuarial tables I'll croak within the next ten years. I've had some biopsies. They're always good for suspense and drama, but so far the results have been anticlimactic. But it's out there. I'm just grateful I lived long enough to see the tv remote control, Internet porn, and adjustable electric beds. Life is so much richer nowadays and I'll be sorry to see the end of it.
Chef, very sorry to hear this. It is true that death is part of life, but life can be very difficult at times. Best wishes to you and your family.
Chef- I had no idea. Thanks for sharing these days and thoughts with us.
xoxox
This and these comments are why I subscribe. I cannot read "pancreatic cancer" and not think of Jack Benny, and smile. I will think of this obit now as well. Thanks for everything.
It's my Birthday and I'm 64. My Face Book page started filling with good wishes before I awoke. Calls from the kids. And I feel tiny echoes of what Chef and Emily said.
Life is pretty nice and kinda awful and sometimes scary.
Give it a rest, some of you. The lady wrote a lighthearted obituary for herself that deals deftly with some regrets, makes amends for a slight, and reflects on the brevity of life and how things didn't always go her way in life.
No one's manipulating anyone here. If you think what she wrote is ____, let's see what you can come up by way of an interim draft of your obit. You can always update it in your last 29 days, of course.
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