Celebrating Life

 

I just read and really enjoyed this sweet and funny novel in which Bud Stanley, an obituary writer who is struggling after a divorce, accidentally publishes his own obituary online after a drunken escapade. His company struggles to fire him due to a loophole in which "dead people" can't be terminated from the payroll. However, a new friend encourages him to attend the memorial services of strangers, which opens his eyes to how best to live.

I haven't been to many funerals in my lifetime except for those of my grandparents'-- and certainly not any of people I didn't know well. However, I lost a dear patient a few weeks ago and my assistant sent me her obituary with the date of her service-- which was yesterday. 

Somehow in the name of "professionalism," and privacy, doctors are not supposed to be too close to their patients. We get maybe 15 minutes per visit with patients, but somehow get to know them quite well over years and decades, although we're not privy to some of the most important qualities they have as mothers, wives, humans, and (in this case) Christians outside those medical visits. I have lost many patients in my my medical career (mostly due to incurable and chronic conditions and old age but some young people due to accidents) but haven't felt called to attended the funerals of any-- until yesterday. 

I entered the church nervously and sat alone in the back, feeling somehow that my being at the service somehow wasn't welcomed or appropriate. I recognized a couple of other faces (actually, also patients of mine). However, several of Lynn's friends and relatives introduced themselves to me and were so appreciative of my (her small-town family doctor) presence at this celebration of her life. I heard from her loved ones about her life of service and dedication, even as I knew of her deep faith (as she told me often, usually at the conclusion of her appointments, that she continued to pray for me). Her niece, Martha, sang "The Wind Beneath Your Wings" in her honor, which was lovely and without many dry eyes. While I couldn't stay for much of the reception due to kids' events, I truly felt blessed to have attended and celebrated this remarkable woman who, in the face of deep physical suffering from her aggressive cancer, touched so many, including myself. 

I don't know if I'll attend any more memorial celebrations for patients (or, like character Bud, strangers) but this one wa meaningful and I will always remember Lynn. May she rest in peace in the arms of her heavenly father.