Ronald Reagan, whether you loved
him or hated him, is not important to me. What I am concerned with is the
outpouring of love and affection for this man at the hour of his death. Yes,
whenever a politician dies, there’s the standard lineup of cronies and family
members, but in this case, hundreds of thousands of ordinary citizens traveled
to Washington or California, standing for hours just to get a glimpse of his
coffin and pay final respects to a man they loved. That impressed me more than
the entire array of official state parades and events scheduled this past week.
No one ordered or paid John Q. Citizen to show for the events. John came and
brought his family on his own time and money. He had no agenda, nothing to gain
by his presence, but to pay final respects to a man whom he loved and admired.
I read once
that whatever we wish our personal eulogy to be should be planned, as we live,
not moments before or after our death. In other words, live the way we want to
be remembered. I’ve always recalled that. I won’t bore you with the details of
how I wish to be remembered. Writing it down won’t change how a single soul
feels when death comes for me.
One thing I
found comforting about what I viewed during the funeral coverage yesterday was
the continuing theme of death as a transition point in life, not the end. It
seems so logical to me that our death would be like everything else in nature,
regenerating. Plants produce seeds that spawn new plants. Trees drop leaves
that change into food for new trees. Caterpillars change into butterflies.
Those things we know and agree upon. What happens after death, I don’t know
yet, but I have no choice over whether I succumb to the event or not.
I must
admit that prior to this last week, I was indifferent to Ronald Reagan. But
living through the non-stop coverage of personal memories of him as a man, as
well as a politician, I have to say I like the man. He was ever the optimist,
ever the gentleman and could disagree on an issue, without making it a personal
matter. He lived his life with humor and love. I aspire to those goals; yet
have a long way to go before meeting them.
My Father
died penniless, but along the way he helped a few people, he influenced a few
lives, harmed no one and he died with six children who loved and respected him.
Even Ronald Reagan’s children didn’t always love and respect him.
As I come
to the end of this piece, I see more clearly just what I want my eulogy to be;
now all I have to do is live it until I die.
Bill
