The murder happened first (duh), but I’ll start with the funeral.
Thousands of people attended the memorial services for Officer Gordon Beesley, who had been the School Resource Officer at my children’s middle school. I’m tempted to say 5,000, but my estimation could be off by a little or a lot in either direction. At least half of the attendees in the megachurch were men and women in uniform. The rest were friends of the Beesley family and members of the school community.
The service lasted more than 2 hours and was brilliantly done. It reversed what I’d been doing all week — thinking of Officer Beesley’s death — and took it back to where our attention belonged, on his life.
Ever since my book club read Being Mortal, I’ve thought about what I’d like my elder years to look like (should I be lucky enough to have them) and what constitutes a good death, specifically, MY good death.
And that leads me to consider, even more specifically, what I’d like to happen in the hours and days after I die.