Tuesday I found out that one of my favorite teachers from high school died while undergoing a routine heart procedure. It’s unfortunate because he was one of those teachers who actually cared about his students, even though it may not have always been apparent given the amount of homework he was known for. I don’t remember any specific incidents from being in his class, but I do recall that I enjoyed his class and he kept it entertaining (which was a hard thing to do for my in high school since I was one of those ’smart’ kids who got bored with how slow many classes had to go to compensate for the rest of the students).
Thursday I drove back to Frankenmuth for the visitation. This was the 2nd time that I’ve actually seen a dead person in a casket in real life (the first being when I was 6), and the first time it was someone that I actually knew and cared about. Being confronted by his wasn’t particularly heart-wrenching or mind blowing or like the cliche stories that are told about being seeing death and being scared into actually taking action and living their life. I am sad for his passing, but what brought tears to my eyes was seeing all the people there whose lives he touched.
Being at the funeral home and seeing everyone that came to visit and having to stand in line for over an hour showed me just how many lives he’d actually touched through the course of his. Granted, he had the advantage of being a teacher, so there was a constant stream of people coming and going. Even so, he managed to have a personal effect on each and every person.
Seeing all those people made me realize that that is how I want my funeral to be. A line out the door of people whose lives I somehow touched. Granted, I have a loooong way to go as of right now, but this gives me a goal to strive for.