Member-only story
Let me try to get into this idea of the five year plan a little bit dramatically. Bear with me.
I’ve probably been to 7–10 funerals in my life. Last Saturday was №10 or so, and it happened to be a good friend of mine who died about 12 days short of his 36th birthday. Death isn’t fun, but when you go to a funeral for a 94 year-old, there’s a sense of “Well, full life.” 36? No.
Before this deal, I’m sitting near Culver City eating a breakfast burrito. “Eating” in this case means periodically putting some of it into my mouth while mostly pushing it around the plate.
The family’s Catholic, and we’re talking about whether it might be open casket for a bit — during the reception/”wake” period, at least. We all concede that it could be.
We finish the breakfast, walk back to the car at our friend’s apartment, and drive over. It was about 35 minutes. The whole time I’m thinking about my friend, his life, our times together, and whether this casket is going to be open.
We get there with about 20 minutes left in the reception/wake period and lo and behold, it’s open at the front of the church.
I had just spent the better part of a half-hour (and a flight the day before) wondering what I would do in this situation.
