Can This Wait?

Thomas Lynch is a mortician-poet who has written a surprisingly witty book called The Undertaking: Life Studies from the Dismal Trade.  He tells how often people instruct him about what kind of funerals they want, and his response is always the same: "The dead don't care."  One of them is a wealthy, worldly Irish priest who rides in a big car and has his eye on the cardinal's job. "No bronze coffin for me," he tells Lynch at the cemetery one day. "No orchids or roses or limousines.  The plain pine box is the one I want, a quiet Low Mass and the pauper's grave. No pomp and circumstance." The priest pictures his corpse as a model of piety and simplicity. He is actually moved at the thought of having chosen such a humble and austere send-off. Lynch points out that he doesn't have to wait till he dies; he could actually give simplicity a go today. Quit the country club and do his hacking at the public links; trade in his brougham for a used Chevy; give away his Florsheims and cashmeres and prime ribs.  Lynch offers to help him with this, to distribute his savings and credit cards among the worthy poor of the parish, and then, when the sad duty called, bury him for free in the manner to which he would by then have become accustomed. This suggestion is not met with enthusiasm. "What I was trying to tell the fellow was, of course, that being a dead saint is no more worthwhile than being a dead angelfish. Living is the run, and always has been... This is the central fact of my business - there is nothing, once you are dead, that can be done to you or with you that will do you any good or harm... The dead don't care."  Ask yourself, "If I were to die, would I have any regrets about my stuff?" The time to start giving is today.  -When the Game Is Over, It All Goes Back in the Box by John Ortberg