We Should Talk More About Dying, Cause You Will

Photo by White House Photograph Office/Barbara Kinney, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Mounting the pulpit at the Glenn Memorial United Methodist Church in Atlanta, Jason Carter explained of Rosalynn Carter, “My grandmother doesn’t need a eulogy; her life was a sermon.”

It’s a line that’s been used in countless memorial services and even more sermons, seminars, and motivational sayings because a great truth is delivered in a simple saying. Most folks have been to the funeral where the person laid out at the front becomes in death a sinless saint according to the words flowing over the casket and into the gathered mourners. If we are fortunate, we get to attend the celebration of life of someone who had far more to praise than the allotted time allows.

This service was the latter. Most tributes are not what Rosalynn Carter got, of course. A front row of all the living first ladies per the departed’s specific request, a former and the sitting President of The United States of America, Trisha Yearwood and Garth Brooks performing, live streaming to the world; while the mechanics of the tribute were familiar there is of course an elevated sense when it is someone as universally respected as Rosalynn Carter.

“The first rule about funerals,” I can hear my father’s voice clearly as he explained something he himself had officiated hundreds of times, “is to understand they are not about you.” I heard it growing up so many times but took until much later in life until I fully understood this maxim. I’ve come to use big public displays of folks passing on as an opportunity to really learn something by watching the reactions. Especially online with social media and news media, a famous person’s death becomes something of a canvas for folks to publicly paint whatever they want. Usually, they paint what they were already going to paint, just with the nomenclature and excuse of whoever died to crank it up from the usual simmering 6 to a viral-baiting 11.

When folks use a famous funeral or celebrity death to tell the world what they really think, believe them.

When the politically ate up knuckleheads online go on and on about Melania Trump being at the service — to the point the Carter family had to come out with a statement that she was there at Rosalynn Carter’s specific request — believe them. When another group of equally-politically ate up but opposing side knuckleheads take a run at the appearance of Michelle Obama with vile caricatures and accusations, believe them. When utterly tone deaf and stupid protestors outside the church try to detract from the service and disrespect the man who is the most high-profile supporter of the cause they claim is important to them as he grieves his wife, believe them. When folks can’t just say nothing if they have nothing good to say, because trending or something, believe them.

Death, especially celebrity death, seems to be a starter pistol-like signal for too many to rush to their device and bare the darker corners of their soul because…why? The person who died, who has no clue who any of these folks are, is dead and can’t respond? Are the online seal claps of a particular in-group some precious resource that can be uniquely mined only as the digital community virtually rallies around the corpse in some sort of viral wake?

While the negative effects of having very online lives is often overblown hyperbole, there really does seem to be something to nationalized politics and culture distilled into personally curated online consumption that isn’t helping our sense of mortality. Social media — like money, power, and alcohol — emboldens and empowers folks to be more of what they really are internally to the outside world without the usual filters. When the filters are off, you get what really dwells in the heart and mind that the spell check of sobriety or keeping your bearing offline in the real world usually corrects.

Being a productive citizen of society begins with being a functional mature adult. A keystone for building a functional adult life is understanding the linear ride from birth to death we are all on. The inevitable, unpredictable, linear ride from birth to death which everyone is taking, and no one is exempt from. While the psychologists, philosophers, and theologians hash out all the particulars, most of us mere mortals can just start with embracing the fact that we are going to die. Setting that immutable fact in its proper place makes a good guardrail to living a good life that can end at any moment, and should be lived so that the speaker over the casket doesn’t have to lie too terribly much about what we accomplished before shuffling off our mortal coil.

The same social and news media that makes bank on celebrity deaths is rife with self-help gurus and Fad O’the Day programs about living a better life, longer life, more fulfilling life, on and on and on. Nothing wrong with those things in the abstract, and probably plenty of practical usages therein for folks to apply. But less popular on YouTube and TikTok is the reality of mortal life. Movies love the young, passionate romance, but Hollywood makes fewer films about the octogenarians trying to get their spouse of a half century to take their meds as they demand to know who they are because time and illness has robbed the mind. Not a lot of influencers who have inhabited our gyms and fitness centers with their mobile video shoots like locusts upon the harvest set up shop in rehab centers and nursing homes to portray not the latest viral fitness craze, but folks just hoping to walk to the bathroom unassisted one more time.

When Jimmy Carter was wheeled into his wife’s tribute, suited and covered in a blanket bearing an image of the couple, some on social media reacted poorly. How, exactly, they expected a 99 year old man who has been in hospice since February and just lost his wife of nearly 80 years is supposed to look was not addressed. Perhaps many of them have never cared for anyone at the end of natural life. Yes, they don’t look as they once did, they struggle, their mouths hang open, they often can’t communicate effectively, they can’t be as they once were because time is undefeated against presidents or paupers alike.

An aged, infirmed, and clearly struggling Jimmy Carter — in what will be his final public appearance — drew strong reactions online. But hopefully after those reactions, the Very Online who live in a world full of likes and daisies and no bad things on the carefully curated timelines look again, hard as it may be. Not as a former president, or any politics or policies, or even the lifetime of philanthropic work the Carters together did since they first met in 1945.

What did you see in that frail, dying man, and did you learn the lesson of life that was preached by Rosalynn Carter during her 96 years of life?

Far from revolting, or scary, or drawing pity, the scene at the front of the Glenn Memorial United Methodist Church was one of great beauty. Not because of the pomp and sober circumstance, or the dignitaries, or the great words. In Jimmy Carter we saw a man putting the period on the end of the last sentence in a great story of personal love and integrity. His last public struggle, completely reliant on others to get it done, but no less present and willing himself to do what he knew needed to be done and was good and proper to do so. The small hours of highly personal struggles as death nears is something we don’t talk about, or show, or want to think about. But we should be thankful for the Carters in this respect: that in Rosalynn’s remembrance and Jimmy’s last leg of the journey without her, we don’t need fancy words to explain to us a life well lived, and death met with courage and dignity.

We just had to watch.