Several of my friends are facing their final days. I visit each, often. One of them speaks blithely about his approaching demise. I play along.
So have you prepared your final words yet?
No. I don’t think that far ahead, he said.
Fair enough.
(I, however, have given it some thought.)
Oscar Wilde said: My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One or the other of us has to go.
Emily Dickinson: I must go in; the fog is rising.
Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson: Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees.
Joan Crawford: Don’t you dare ask God to help me.
Steve Jobs: Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow.
I once visited a dear friend on his deathbed. Ethan was too young to be dying, but he was. Just days to go.
How ya doin’, my friend?
Other than dying, he said, I’m not doing too bad.
Sorry. I wish it weren’t so.
Yeah. Me too. But let me tell you, pal, dying is easy; comedy is hard.
(Allegedly, those were the final words of Edmund Kean, a Shakespearean actor. I didn’t know that. I looked it up.)
Dying is easy. Comedy is hard.
My friend knew a thing or two about comedy. Ethan and I wrote comedy for the Rumsey Radio Hour for nearly 10 years. I wrote comic sketches. He wrote comic detective plays—“Johnny Dime, the Poet of Crime”—as good as anything on A Prairie Home Companion.
That was a lot of fun. But, yes, it was also hard work. We played to a sophisticated audience in Reynolds Hall on the campus of Shepherd University and over 12 radio stations. It aired monthly.
Radio shows, like all shows, have deadlines for scripts. The first, the second, the FINAL. Ethan ignored them all. He’d still be scribbling when the curtain went up.
He drove me crazy.
But I loved him. And I miss him. We had fun. We worked hard, but it was worth it. We made people laugh.
I don’t remember Ethan’s actual final words, but for me they’ll always be:
Dying is easy. Comedy is hard.
Today is the Fourth Sunday in Advent. The fourth candle stands for LOVE.
Live well. Laugh often. Love much.
Those are the final words of this final post of the year.
I understand that famous last words are better said before our concluding event. Literal last words virtually never occur. In courage your friend to not put it off. “Stonewall’ Jackson was dying from sepsis, as a result of unsanitary surgical practices of the day, and was delirious in his final moments. Those words attributed to him are too coherent. Scholars are still debating that one. So plan your words and practice your good deeds before your finale. Indeed. “Dying is easy. Comedy is hard.”
Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow. All those Rumsey Radio Hours! We loved them, lived for them, laughed ourselves silly there and so many other times with so many of our friends, so many of the stars on the stage and behind the scenes. They will always be part of the magic of this place.
We did not know Ethan well but will never forget the time of a big snow when we made it into town with another professorial Rumsey star, ran into Ethan at the Blue Moon, and spent the afternoon talking about everything from poetry to pot-bellied stoves.
So many wonderful stories in this storybook village. Thanks for reminding us of the smiles inside our tears.
I need to correct the record. “Stonewall” Jackson died from complications from pneumonia not sepsis. His arm was amputated probably because infection was setting in, but in his already weaken condition the surgery proved too much for him. Nonetheless, I remain skeptical about “famous last words” uttered just moment before expiring.
I also share a healthy skepticism about famous last words. Perhaps in our final breaths, there are no words, only wordless wonder, only ineffable gratitude, only openness of spirit to the Mystery, only a gentle and quiet surrender. Perhaps living in the spirit of love and compassion is enough—without words.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7xMfIp-irg
Brought to mind the Beatles all those lovely years ago.
The writings and comments brought back a flashback memory, During the hippie years there were a lot of posters made that were psychedelic or art nouveau. My girlfriend I had an art noveau one with these word: Not only to love and be loved but to say that we love and are loved, For the silence of words is large enough beyond the grave. – So spread the word to all those that will hear. All you need is Love!
Randy, I’ll be honest, I try not to think about dying, even though I’m 81 and in pretty good health! I don’t think about it for 2 reasons, 1 if God is ready for me I’m ready for him! 2, I still have a lot of things I want to do. And, I’m still eagerly looking for people I can help! Together they fill my head with good thoughts and death isn’t one of them! Maybe soon, I’ll consider death, but not today!🙏👍
Another year, another Advent season of reflection on hope, peace, joy, and love. Matters of the mind and heart to guide our lives if we have a notion, as well with the potential to guide us onto the next with a pithy one liner or not as we exit stage left. In my younger days, I held the notion that I was just human, all too human, a human being. More days now than not I think I am just a being trying to be human, hoping it works out for the best.
I applaud the final words of this final post of the year! See you next year!
I heard my mother’s final words when my brother brought his son to her deathbed in the hospital, “There’s my baby!” Then they took her off the ventilator. Balanced on the edge of eternity, eloquence is too much to ask. I hope my final words are thank you. If my time runs out without dementia or Alzheimers, ill be very grateful.
Randy, your story and others’ comments are special, and really big (that mattered when we were small beings!) holiday gifts!! Love in the experiencing, love in the sharing, with very good will toward one another. One memory came immediately to mind: During a “ladies lunch” talk show once, when asked what they wished their final words/acts to be, Phylicia Rashad said, “I want to be a sweet offering.” If humans lived those words, we’d all be! Love-ly to contemplate. May this holiday season and the new year find you full to the brim with joy, love, gratitude, and the “sweetness” that reserves our place at the table. Blessings be–
Randy, You’ve done a good job of discussing the death of a beloved friend in this time of focus on Advent and Christmas. Acknowledging your pain over this loss, you have also memorialized Ethan with some precious memories. Wishing you the comfort of good memories and times with family and friends.
Not to rush, friend.
Thank you for this…on this sacred solstice it was such an important reminder… I was brought to tears remembering Ethan, & all the folks at Rumsey Radio Hour. Pat described it so well. I’m going with those final words you said Randy, at the end of each show…”Heaven only knows how it will all turn out…”. Blessed Be🙏
Thanks for reminding me of the RRH and Johnny Dime. Brilliant words, final or not.
Que Sera, Sera. My Mothers life mantra.