Have you ever wondered who would show up at your funeral? I know that sounds somewhat morbid and maybe even a little self-absorbed to think about, but it was indeed something I pondered very recently when I attended my partner’s uncle’s funeral.
There, I silently observed the incredible amount of family members and friends that came out to pay their respects, many of which expressed how much they’d really miss him. As the pictures flashed across the TV screens in the funeral home showing all the wonderful memories of his life, I could see how much of a positive impact he had made upon his family and felt the warmth from that in the room. It was quite apparent how much he was unconditionally loved and cherished by not only his family, but also in the local community as well. While I was happy to see all that adoration and support for this man who brought plenty of smiles to so many during his lifetime, I felt saddened at the same time by the impression I’ve left thus far in this world, because it hasn’t been much of a positive one.
Having lived an incredibly selfish and self-centered life up until six years ago due to all the addictions I succumbed to and having moved from city to city, jumping from job to job over several decades because of that addiction-laden life, I never made much of an investment into making deep friendships and creating long-lasting bonds. This in turn has led to a very lonely life. Beyond my partner, my sister and her kids, and a best friend who still lives back in the Boston area, I have no other family to speak of. And in Toledo, where I reside now for the past four years, while I’ve made a few good friends, I still feel like I’m invisible and would be easily forgotten shortly after my passing, thus making any funeral on my behalf parallel the lonely life I’ve lived.
But please believe me when I say that I’ve done my very best to rectify this in recent years, to erase my selfish past and be there more for others, than to serve myself. Unfortunately, so far that hasn’t seemed to make much of a lasting impact with others, maybe because of all the character defects I’m still working through that were hidden below all my addictions. This lack of connection has in turn caused me great sadness because ultimately, deep down inside me, I’d like to have the same type of unconditional love and support that I felt in that funeral home for my partner’s uncle.
I honestly had hoped that when I moved to Toledo and began a new chapter that was finally free of my former life of addictions, that I was going to make far more positive lasting impressions upon others, including with my partner’s vast number of family members in the area. Yet, most haven’t really connected with me thus far, no matter how hard I’ve tried to be more selfless than selfish, more loving than hateful, and more accepting than judgmental.
So, as I felt all that unconditional love flowing around the room for my partner’s uncle at his funeral, the retrospect I had at the same time with my own life led to me feeling a deep void within me that is most definitely the result of that addiction-laden life I lived for far too long. While I can’t change this part of my past, I can do what I am now and that’s to continue remaining clean and sober and working on my recovery, drawing closer to God in the process, and doing my best to becoming a selfless and unconditionally loving being of Light.
Hopefully, in doing so, when the day finally comes for my own funeral, I’ll have made enough of a lasting positive impression in this world like my partner’s uncle did, where people will actually miss me too and want to come pay their respects out of unconditional love, instead of me having an empty funeral that would have definitely resulted from continuing to live in a selfish, addiction-based life.
Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson
