Thinking about the life we leave behind

Joe Bowyer

Walk through a cemetery and you will see the headstones that mark the graves of the people who lived on this earth. The stones tell us nothing of what the people accomplished while they were here, or what they left behind when they passed on to the next life. About the only thing the stones tell us by their size is whether the owners were poor or whether they had gained at least a small amount of wealth while they were here.

Much poetry is written about death and the circumstances of dying. In World War I, John McCrea, a Canadian Army officer, wrote a poem about the men who had died in battle called “In Flanders Fields.” It is hard to forget the poem if you read it with the dying soldiers in mind. The first verse says:

In Flander’s Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amidst the guns below.

When you see a military cemetery, you know what he meant by the crosses row on row, because they seem to go on almost endlessly, and you can’t help feeling the compassion he must have felt when he wrote this most memorable poem. These men were soldiers who, I can tell you, didn’t become rich, except in the legacy of honor they left behind as patriots when they died.

Another thought concerning dying was expressed by Longfellow in his poem, “Psalm of Life.” In it one verse says:

Life is real, life is earnest,

And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.

As you can see, most poems about life and death are written with reverence, as they should be. Each God-given life should be lived in such a way that something good is accomplished by the person living it. Unfortunately, some lives can only be used as horrible examples, instead of being exemplified.

It was my and Janie’s privilege to drive up into Maine on business once, and there we became interested in the old churchyards we passed. This came about because of one small, ivy-covered church which was so picturesque we just had to stop and see it. While there, we wandered into the church cemetery and started reading the headstones. Some of them were quite informative, even going so far as to say what the person died of. They were very old stones, and we noted that many small babies and children died in that day.

Some stones were actually funny with inscriptions that came close to the one that supposedly said “I told you I was sick.” Some had short humorous poems on them, and I wish I had written them down, but unfortunately I didn’t. Needless to say, most of the older ones were small and plain with just the writing on them. There wasn’t much money to be had in the 1700s to spend on grave markers.

I guess what is really important about a headstone is what the people who knew the person lying under it say when they stand near it. What others think of us is a good indicator of how we have lived our lives. It is well and good for people to say they are satisfied with what they accomplished as they look back, but the honest estimate of their value usually comes from people who knew them when they were living.

I know my Janie would say I was a good husband, and that she loved me, but she might also add something to convey the fact that “I sure could be stubborn.” Janie loved me though, so she would never speak ill of me. The real test is what others will say when they look at our stone. I know they will say of Janie “She was a lovely woman to know,” and they would probably go on to say “Joe sure was lucky to marry such a woman.”

What then would they say of me? Would marrying Janie be my greatest accomplishment in life or might they say, “For a guy who started out in life with nothing, he didn’t do too bad.” And might they say “He was a good man and made life better for many of us by his efforts.” I would really like to know, but I don’t suppose I will hear what they say since I’ll be dead. It’s really important, though, what others think of us while we are here and after we’ve gone.

• Joe Bowyer is a columnist for the Pharos-Tribune. He can be reached through the newspaper at ptnews@pharostribune.com

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