A network news program features a weekly segment called Notable Deaths. As somber music plays in the background, a picture of the 鈥渘otable鈥� person is displayed as their death is marked. Those that make the cut are musicians, actors, athletes, or authors; people with public profiles. It bothers me that they are called Notable Deaths. In any given week about one million people die. Aren鈥檛 all deaths notable?
For 125 years an event has taken place in Los Angeles. It is solemn. Respectful. And while it usually draws several hundred people, it goes unnoticed by most. One day each year L.A. County officials, clergy and interested members of the public set aside time to bury the county鈥檚 unclaimed dead. Prayers are said representing different faith traditions, and music is played as words of thanksgiving are spoken for each life. This year the public was asked to stay home as 1,547 men, women and children were remembered.
It is heartbreaking to think this happens everywhere. Strangers have to step in to fill the gap for strangers. Of course at the other end of that spectrum is the outpouring that occurs when fame is involved. Think of what happened when such notables as Diana, Princess of Wales, Muhammad Ali or Nelson Mandela passed away. People lined the streets, rows of flowers were placed, and public officials and private citizens alike were eager to commemorate their life and mark their loss.
Remarkable people have passed away in the last number of days. Hundreds of thousands of remarkable people, actually. But I have been thinking about three.
Our co-worker鈥檚 mother died too young and our hearts are breaking for him. We know he is hurting.
Then on April 9 came the announcement about Prince Philip. A life of 99 years isn鈥檛 grieved for its brevity of course, but rather the rich loss that is keenly felt by those who have shared decades and decades with him. Which leads me to the passing of a man named Harry.
Four years ago I took part in planning our community鈥檚 Canada 150 celebration. One of my tasks was to help put a community church service together, during which we hoped to have different people share their story of life and faith. Knowing we wanted to start with a senior member of the community, we thought of Harry.
I had the privilege of approaching him to ask if he would participate. In his humbleness he felt there had to be others more worthy, but the 96-year old gentleman was willing. To make it as simple as we could, we agreed that I would interview him and write up his story which he could present at the worship service. Days later I spent an absolutely delightful afternoon in his home. He had the coffee on, he served me cookies and we began our conversation.
Harry talked about his life, farming, his faith and his family. He shared heartwarming memories of his wife who had passed away a few years prior. Oh how he missed her. He spoke with such love of their life together, their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.
A few weeks later, hundreds of people were gathered in the Rec Plex for the service. It had been determined that a son-in-law of Harry鈥檚 would read his story, but that Harry would be on the stage, so we set out a chair for him. He stood the whole time. The standing ovation at the completion of his story thrilled me. I鈥檓 pretty sure the modest man thought it too big a fuss.
A few months ago Harry turned 100. I joined a large group of people who stood below his balcony singing for him and sharing in the celebration. The smile on his face is still with me.
Harry passed away a few days ago. As a centenarian his death would be considered notable. Worthy of attention. But it has little to do with years on earth.
What makes the deaths of these people remarkable is the life they lived and the people they loved. The first two held all kinds of titles: business woman, health care worker, gardener; naval commander, conservationist, prince. But they would most likely echo Harry in the assertion that the descriptions that matter most are those that draw us together in relationship with one another.
Harry鈥檚 final words to the crowd on that Sunday in 2017 were, 鈥淎s I think about my life as a farmer, husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather I have seen God鈥檚 faithfulness in my life and I am thankful for His love, His Son, and for the good life He has given me.鈥�
Notable lives. That鈥檚 my outlook.
