by Craig Davis (guest blogger)
Don’t mourn me after I am gone! I have had a wonderful life.
I was born on December 31, 1959 in Seymour, Indiana. I passed on a date and location yet to be determined.
Right now, it is 5:30 am, and I am sitting in my recliner, drinking a good cup of coffee, watching the news, and listening to the birds sing outside. I love this time of the morning. So tranquil. To make it even nicer, it is Saturday. Mirna is awake, talking to the cats. Grace is sleeping on the sofa at the foot of our bed. Brenden, Summer, and Trevor are all asleep in other rooms. We are safe. What could be more pleasant?
Don’t mourn me after I am gone! Don’t give me a showing! Don’t hold a service! This is my choice! You will disrespect me if you do not honor my choices! If you love me, don’t give me any type of ceremony at all.
When I pass, let’s have a family reunion. Gather at our house for a week or two to celebrate my life. Order pizza and wings one day. Indian, KFC, Chinese, McDonalds other days. Set up tents in the yard for the kids to stay in. Let the kids run and play, ride bikes, play miniature golf, play basketball, whatever. Rent a port-a-potty. Have our silly videos playing on a loop on one TV all day. Trevor, Kevin, and the others can play live music. Lay out my books and articles for people to read as they choose. UNO, Euchre, Rummy, and Hearts are mandatory. Davis Family rules apply. Decks of cards should be everywhere. Set up a card table for the kids.
One TV should be available for movies and series 24-hours a day. Another should be set on Disney or other streaming sites for kids. Have plenty of coffee, Big Red, diet drinks, water and juice. People can come and go as they like. They don’t have to spend all their time on the farm. They can go to the beach. If we still have the condo, they can use that.
No one should give any speeches. Just have fun! What better way to honor me than to have fun on my behalf.
Trust me! I have had a wonderful life. I didn’t leave anything in the tank. I didn’t hold back. I jumped out of an airplane (with a parachute). I ran the bulls in Pamplona. I took an 18-month semi-leave of absence a traveled the east coast, Midwest, and into Texas and Louisiana in a motorhome. I rode my bicycle across central Florida. From Indiana to Florida. From Florida to Louisiana and back. Through Vietnam and Cambodia. And in a few weeks, I will ride across Scandinavia: Sweden, Denmark, Findland, and Norway.
I have squeezed out all of the life that a hillbilly from Jackson County can. And I am not exaggerating when I say hillbilly. On the house on the hill near Freetown, I lived with my grandparents off and on, and we didn’t have running water, heat, or AC. We used an outhouse during the day and a bucket at night. I pumped water to bring into the house to drink, cook with, wash up, and take “baths.”
I lived in Iraq for two years during the civil war. I escaped many attacks with my life. I lived in Pakistan for three years, one during peace time with my family, and two years of turmoil, violence, and death. I lived in El Salvador during the civil war. Worked in Somalia during the civil war. Lived in Yemen when President Saleh was attacked during Friday prayers at the mosque. I sat in a doorway during the next six hours of retaliatory shelling that pounded our neighborhood. I lived in Kenya when al-Shabbab attacked the Westgate Mall that killed 67 people.
Don’t mourn me when I’m gone! Death is a necessary part of life. The conclusion of life. We must pass so that future generations can live. It is the human contract necessary for procreation. Death provides future generations the resources—food, water, shelter, and air—required to survive. I will gladly pay my debt so that my grandchildren have my share of global resources.
I married the most beautiful woman and had a wonderful, full life. We travelled the globe: China, Latin America, Europe, Turkey, Africa, and the UK. Crossed most of the US together. She was, and is, my best friend. I begat the most wonderful children. They begat the most wonderful grandchildren. I made silly videos with those kids and grandkids. Watched movies with them. Watched sports with them. Took them to sporting events. We travelled all over together. Rode the Sling Shot with a couple of them. Took some to Disney World. Spent time at the house on the farm and in the condo with most of them. We had fun, didn’t we?
Don’t mourn me! I published books and articles! I taught myself to play the piano at the age of 63. I speak Urdu/Hindi, Spanish, and Arabic. I read German, French, Persian, and a few other languages. I earned a dual PhD. Don’t feel sorry for me.
When I go, it will be against my will. But go I will. Because none of us can ultimately escape death. I have already escaped so many times. And may escape a few more. But ultimately, it will take me. Close the final chapter of my life. But what a life! No one can deny it.
I am loved. By my wife. My children. My grandchildren. My father. My aunts and uncles and cousins. My friends. Who can ask for anything more!
I have voted for US presidential candidates from at least four different parties. My kids and I rode the streets of Lahore on the night during the 1999 coup d’état. I read the Bible and Quran from cover to cover. Maybe another 1,000 books besides. I have seen the pyramids and Valleys of Kings and Queens in Egypt. Swam in the Nile River, walked along the Indus River in Pakistan, along the Ganges River in Varanasi, India with my kids. My family and I rode in a taxi through the City of Joy in Calcutta, India. We ate lunch of bread and cheese in a Nabataean Amphitheater in the breathtaking ancient city of Petra in Jordan, and walked along the ruins of the ancient cities of Jericho on the West Bank of Palestine and Harappa in Pakistan. We observed the whirling dervishes in Istanbul, Turkey and toured the Taj Majal in India.
I rode my bicycle through the Mekong Delta in Vietnam. Walked through the amazing Angkor Wat compound in Cambodia. Walked on a glacier in Pakistan and on the Great Wall of China with my family. I climbed the great Ziggurat of Ur in Nasiriyah, Iraq. Don’t mourn me!
I have put up hay, chopped wood, fed livestock, planted gardens, picked tomatoes in Jackson County, Indiana. My profession has allowed me to help hundreds of thousands of children and youth across the globe get an education and find jobs. Helped thousands of adults build peace in their communities, find solutions to their problems, build roads and schools and clinics, improve public services like water, transportation, markets, electricity, and much more. I taught English to Afghan refugees, supported emergency aid to Pakistani flood victims, and helped to arrange funding for tsunami victims in Indonesia. I have run USAID projects as large as $120 million, all in all benefiting millions of needy beneficiaries who will never know my name.
I survived an attack in the Al-Rashid Hotel in Iraq, only shrapnel in my head, back, and leg remains. I survived an insurgent ambush in Mosul, Iraq, but a Kurdish friend of mine didn’t. I recovered from nine broken bones and a punctured lung, resulting from a motorbike accident in Thailand. I have lived a full life after a prostate cancer diagnosis 2 ½ years ago. And I am still kicking.
So don’t mourn me! Celebrate my life! When the time comes, that is. Let’s not be in too much of a hurry!
To be continued!