Art Buchwald and My Grandmother
“Hi, I’m Art Buchwald, and I just died.”
I read that line in a magazine article about writer Art Buchwald. He delivered those words in an online video obituary published by the New York Times. I think Buchwald’s approach to death is as inspiring as it is original.
Even while dying of kidney failure, he continued to work. I find this admirable and more than a little encouraging to my career as a freelance writer.
In reading Buchwald’s bit, I’m reminded of a conversation in March 2007, with my grandmother who turned 103 in December 2006.
At that time, telephone calls with my grandmother were often one-sided; the incompatibility of hearing aid and telephone were always a challenge for me, but then again, our conversations were amusing without any interruptions from my end of the telephone line.
When I called that day, she had just awakened from a mid-morning nap, so her dreams were easy brought to mind. In fact, she may not have been as lucid as I thought she was when she first answered the phone.
Grandma told me that she had been dreaming about my grandfather, her husband of more than 60 years who passed away in 1991.
“It’s taking along time to see him again,” she told me and said she wondered what the reason was for his delay in coming to get her. Then she said the thought that she might know the answer.
Apparently, one of her sisters had dated my grandfather when they were as young adults and Grandma wondered if perhaps they were together on the other side.
Whether Granny was able to sneak a peek at life beyond the white light, or not, I don’t know, but she remained unwavering in her expectation that my grandfather would be there to greet her when she was ready to go. Until then, she was not going to budge an inch. A little later in our conversation, she reconsidered her position and said, “if he’s not there when I get there, I’ll go find him.”
Man, I hope I keep my sense of humour about the end when it’s my turn.
More accurately, I hope for the opportunity Buchwald and my grandmother share, which is to live life that when the end arrives makes it easy to embrace.