Funereal words to live by

Don’t worry, you’re fine. But if you had to write your own eulogy, what would you say? Think of it as a way of embracing more lives than just yours.

It’s easy to overlook a large chunk of your parents’ lives — you know, that irrelevant era before you were born. And in their eyes, you may always be that 7-year-old racing into the backyard — or that 18-year-old, flying off to college. They might know your resume, but not your soul. 

So tell them. And ask them. While you’re at it, ask other people who matter to you.

What was the most exciting time of their lives? How did they meet in an era when swiping right was not an option? Did they ever do the Macarena?

One of my favorite columns at the Chronicle was when I asked a couple of dozen friends to name a song that mattered to them. As with many questions here, the “why” is what matters. It lets them tell me something about their lives — sometimes personal — and lets me tell them something about mine. 

Some gave me songs about fitting in, or heartfelt memories from their parents’ living rooms. My nephew and I even exchanged stories about our wedding proposals. 

If you’re not a music lover, pick a movie that matters. Or a character in a TV show or novel. If you hate writing, make a video on your phone — or resolve with friends to talk about one of these questions the next time you meet. 

The format is meaningless. The emotion is what counts. Making the human connection is what counts even more. 

Of course your eulogy will mention how you met your significant other, but don’t leave out the details about the proposal and the first song you danced to at your wedding. If you’re unattached, talk about how you met your best friends, and when you knew you would be BFFs.

One friend posted this on social media: What have you done that none of your Facebook friends has ever done? I’d suggest you place storytelling above uniqueness, though. Even if two other friends have gone snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef, I’d rather hear your tale about that than about the time you had four ingrown toenails on the same foot. 

Here are five other questions to get you thinking (and remember to always include the “why”):

What events do you remember the most? These can be anything from your first ballgame with a parent to a raucous concert to a romantic vacation. But don’t just give us a checklist, tell us some stories. 

What were the biggest turning points in your life? Go beyond the obvious ones like marriage and childbirth. Tell us about the time you hit your head and came up with the idea for the flux capacitor. 

What people changed you the most? Think about crucial teachers, mentors, friends. If you think about the “and why,” you might even end up changing a few lives yourself. Anyone you miss the most? 

What movie scene makes you cry, every damn time? Some of us cry over sad stuff, others happy. Maybe you and your parents have more in common than you think. 

What places brought you joy? My newspaper career got bookended by happy hours, first at a dimly lit restaurant where people drank Scotch and played liar's dice at the bar and I was the youngest person there, then at a wine pub where people drank lighter stuff and sat outside and I was the oldest person there. The joy was far different, and very much the same. 

Murphy Slaw

Something old: In a Ringer podcast about Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” host Rob Harvilla points to how powerful the first 10 seconds of her songs are, drawing you in if you’re just sampling music. Next time you’re writing a text or sending a resume, remember Shania Twain. If you don’t hook someone in a few seconds, you may feel like a failure. 

Something new: Did you ever think of a lyric or tune that’s just driving you crazy because you can’t remember what song it’s from? Google now lets you search for a song by humming it for a few seconds. 

Something borrowed: This father is testifying about his transgender daughter before a Missouri House of Representatives committee, but he’s really talking about empathy. Life is a billion times easier if you’re comfortable in your own skin.

Something blue: This month’s Grammys included a snippet of music from 1988’s “Cinema Paradiso” to honor composer Ennio Morricone, who died in July. The movie is mostly flashbacks from Salvatore, a prominent filmmaker who learned that the projectionist from his hometown theater had died. Salvatore hadn’t gone home for 30 years, but he did for Alfredo’s funeral. 

Salvatore was a pesky kid, even nagging Alfredo to give him pieces of film that the church had censored (mostly kissing). But Alfredo eventually becomes a friend and mentor, teaching Salvatore about movies, pushing him to live a bigger life than their small town could offer, telling him to never look back. He even bequeathed him a short reel of film. 

The finale shows Salvatore watching that reel, complemented by Morricone’s beautiful music.