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Aging, Ailments, and Attitudes...

...For years Jennifer and I have talked on a daily basis, sharing our closest dreams and secrets. Now that I am traveling quite often to various speaking engagements, I always call Jennifer when I am leaving town. I give her all pertinent information - the route I will travel, where I will stay, the location of the event. Of course, she has my cell phone number and can call at any time. She is my sister, in the best sense of the word, and I want someone in my family of friends to know where I will be.

I always end the conversation by saying, "Okay, if I get hit by a truck hauling hogs or fall off a mountain, you will know where to find the body. But, before you do anything else, go clean my house!"

She always promises to do this.

Recently, the Florida beaches were calling and Jennifer's family decided to answer. Packing for a family of four took several days for Jennifer and her husband, Dick. Their van was loaded with clothes, swimsuits, and toys for the children ranging from handheld computer games to floating rafts for the ocean. Oh, and a cooler the size of a small home was filled with snacks and drinks. As they were leaving early one Saturday morning, Jennifer realized one task remained on her Official To-Do List - Call Cathy.

My telephone rang early and Jennifer quickly began to babble.

"Do you have a pen and paper?" she asked.

"I'm ready," I responded.

Jennifer supplied me with pertinent information regarding their beach trip - the route, the hotel, and all appropriate details. She made sure I had all cell phone and beeper numbers.

I finally stopped her. "Don't worry - I have all the information."

"Well," she hesitated, "I do need to ask on last thing."

"Go ahead."

Jennifer spoke again, using words that sounded quite familiar to me.

"Now, if we get hit by a truck hauling hogs or fall off a mountain, I don't want you to worry about cleaning my house."

Well, that was a relief! I hardly have time to clean my own house. I thought the conversation had ended but Jennifer kept talking.

"There is something I want you to do that is more important than cleaning my house. Will you promise this as a solemn oath?"

Her words sounded rather ominous so I listened closely and could hardly believe what I heard.

"If we get hit by a truck hauling hogs or fall off a mountain (a mountain in Florida?), don't worry about my house," she repeated.

"You said that already."

"I know. Just listen and promise me you will take care of this very important matter."

As she began speaking, I could hardly maintain my self-control. In fact, I'm sure I was laughing hysterically before she ended her first sentence. Nevertheless, while Jennifer talked, I listened in amazement as I realized that, if my dear friend were to meet her end on a Florida roadway, she would not be concerned about family, friends, finances, and matters of the spirit. Nay! At the moment she crossed into the great beyond, Jennifer's thoughts would be on...FACIAL HAIR!

Should there be a tragic accident, I was asked to go immediately unto Florida and locate the bodies. per Jennifer, I was to go to the funeral home and announce that I was the next of kin. Jennifer's final wishes included that I be swathed in black from head to toe. This color of mourning would indicate to all watching that I was deeply grieving for the loss of this beloved friend.

As Jennifer stated, "I want people to know I was popular."

"Okay," I agreed, "locate bodies and wrap myself in black. Should I practice weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth?"

I was kidding, but Jennifer liked the idea.

"Weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth. That is perfect!" I could hear the smile in her voice.

I was instructed to grieve as never before. My cries should be heard as far away as New England and be so loud that the very foundations of the earth trembled. I was to carry an extra-large box of tissues, blow my nose regularly, and leave a trail of them throughout the funeral home. This is all in the name of popularity, of course.

Continuing her instructions, Jennifer asked that I continue my loud laments even as they wheeled the coffin into the viewing room. I was then to throw myself at the foot of the casket, crumpled, inconsolable, and prostrate with grief.

"Okay," I agreed, "A trail of tissues, loud laments, and I throw myself at the foot of the casket. I think I have it."

"Wait, I'm not finished," and she continued talking.

"Now this next part is perhaps the most important, so listen carefully."

"I'm listening," wondering what could possibly come next.

"After you have cried for 20 or so minutes at the foot of the casket, I want you to rise slowly and, without warning, fling - yes, fling yourself - into the very coffin."

Now Jennifer is my friend and these were her last wishes, but I did have my dignity to consider.

"Wait just a minute. I can claim the body, dress in black, weep loudly, and crumple to the floor in grief. But I simply cannot fling myself into the casket with you. People will get a very wrong impression of our friendship. That is asking a bit much, don't you think? Plus, do you know how short I am? I would have to get a running start in Canada in order to fling myself into your coffin."

"But you have to," Jennifer implored. "This is the most crucial part!"

"Why is this the most crucial part?"

"It is simple," she explained. "Once you leap over the edge of the coffin, I want you to locate a pair of tweezers you will have hidden in your black clothing. At that point, I want you to check me for chin hair!"

We laughed wildly.

Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life bring understanding?
To God belong wisdom and power; Counsel and understanding are his.
Job 12:12-13