Everyone dies. That’s a fact. I don’t particularly like it much, especially when I lose two people I admire in one week. What is the proper way to mourn the passing of those you wish you knew but didn’t? I’m not sure the answer, but I was more off balance than usual the week John McCain and Aretha Franklin died.
I truly wish I knew what happens to us once we pass. My version of heaven is based on conversations with my dad when I was little girl. (I had an unhealthy preoccupation with death as a child. As the youngest, I was always a little peeved that I would get the least amount of time with my parents.) Were there newspapers? Yes, there were newspapers. What about bologna? Yes, there was bologna. Would we all be together? Yes, as long as you were good, St. Peter would let you into the pearly gates of heaven. I guess I pictured heaven as a really nice resort with St. Peter as the concierge. I realize now that my dad was just telling me what I needed to hear as a child, but for whatever reason, that view of heaven has stuck with me even at the age of 58. Periodically, I get ‘winks’ from my parents, whether it is a cell phone call from ‘mom,’ or I find myself drawn into a discussion with an elderly man who is wearing a striped shirt and plaid pants just like my dad did. I like to think it is their way of telling me that heaven not only has newspapers and bologna, but also corned beef and cable.
So, I wonder what happened when John McCain and Aretha Franklin both showed up at the gates of heaven? I would think at first, St. Peter would be a little mad and wonder who in the world thought it was a good idea that both of these people got called up to the majors at the same time. But if you believe in God, well, let’s just say you can’t really complain to the boss, or there might be a lot of thunder and lightning.
I hope he thanked Aretha for the fact that everyone can spell the word respect. Unfortunately, not everyone treats people with it, but at least we know how to write it correctly. I also hope he thanked her for her music. It brought people together because no matter what wedding you attend, if an Aretha Franklin song comes on, everyone gets up to dance, even those of us who shouldn’t. I also hope he would congratulate her on the ability to keep singing even when tear gas was being fired at her when she was fighting for civil rights.
John McCain was a war hero and a statesman. I am certain St. Peter would thank him for always speaking his mind, sticking to his principles, encouraging bipartisanship, raising a wonderful family and forcing liberal Democrats like me to cry just a little when he died.
Then I hope St. Peter told them both to hop in Aretha’s pink Cadillac and drive on through those pearly gates where they met my mom and dad and all of the other people we know and love who are waiting for us in heaven.
Contact Patty at phannum@townandstyle.com.
