“There is no good way to die,” God declared over the lunch he’d ordered for us from Langer’s Delicatessen-Restaurant on South Alvarado in Los Angeles. “Just miserable death,” he continued, “which makes what’s on the other side spectacular.” Ever the Observant One, he noticed my reluctance to eat while he was making pronouncements, pontificating it seemed to me, and when I told him so he scowled. I quickly took a large bite and began to chew with vigor, not wanting to incur his wrath, or a lecture.
“Birth, life, death, hell, and heaven,” he proceeded, “are all part of the plan.” He encouraged me to eat, not overthink, and enjoy the pastrami, Swiss cheese and coleslaw sandwich. “How do you like the double-baked Jewish rye?” he asked, “and what about their home-made Russian dressing?”
I nodded approval while wiping a smear of the latter from my cheek. His mischievous look was disarming, but when he licked his upper lip my hands tightened around the sandwich. “I’ve tried hard,” he continued, shaking his head in divine embarrassment, “to get my Heavenly staff of bakers and cooks to replicate Langer’s #19, but they can’t.”
I gave him a quizzical look. My mouth was full, but he knew.
“Yes,” he exclaimed, “the one you’re munching on this very minute!” He sheepishly mentioned that Jesus may have told the staff that his dad’s docs had put him on a restricted diet—limits on salt and watch the calories. “However, occasionally I secretly order one directly from the deli,” he whispered, “you won’t tell my son will you?”
I shrugged my shoulders, me, tell him? I thought, and almost choked swallowing the last of the pickle.
“Of course, you,” he impatiently responded, “and don’t look so surprised, foolish child, you’ll get in. After all,” he barked, “we need psychotherapists in heaven, too—Lord Almighty, do we ever!”
“You’re God,” I bravely said.
“Duh,” he replied.
I continued, albeit with considerable chagrin, to list his accomplishments (to his obvious delight), a lame prequel to my question, “Can’t you orchestrate a good way to die?”
Not one to shrink from the limelight, he began to recite the good deaths he’d brought about. Swallowing the last bite of my sandwich, I blurted out, “Yes, well and good, but what worked for Moses, Noah and David isn’t necessarily what’ll work for Roger.”
He didn’t miss much and scolded me for talking about myself in the third person as if that linguistic ploy could distance me from the inevitable: misery in dying.
And then he changed direction by gently proposing that I could go to sleep and dream of blue-footed boobies. What? I thought.
“The feathered kind, silly, not the ones you pay to see at the 4 Play Gentlemen’s Club in West L.A,” he was quick to say.
“You know about that?” I questioned.
He smiled, winked and with measured fondness said, “Is there anything I don’t know or a place I haven’t been?” He picked up right where he’d left off before I naively interrupted him. “You’ll die peacefully in the wings of tropical goose-sized birds. That’s the best I can do.”
“When and where,” I asked?
“TBD,” he said and disappeared.
by 
Love it, Roger! It shows how fun is all around us even in the face of death and dying- a matter of attitude. I received a call today from a friend with terminal cancer. She is having great fun planning a very elaborate party. As for me, dying in the wings of blue-footed boobies would not be my first choice. But I shall have fun reading about it again and again!!
Dona,
A neighbor and I crossed paths this morning on my way to the office. Her eyes lit-up and her lips parted in the biggest springtime smile: “Look at this blue sky,” she declared, “and soon our gardens will be full of color. What a day!” Yes, “fun is all around us.” Here’s to you, your friend, and a wonderful elaborate party to celebrate life and the final goodbye!
Roger
So I am not sure this blog entry calls for a serious response, but here goes nonetheless. A book I found remarkable on this topic is Sherwin Nuland’s “How We Die: Reflections of Life’s Final Chapter” published in 1995, but still available on Amazon. Dr Nuland was a very wise, introspective, and self aware surgeon, who I was incredibly fortunate to work under as a medical student. My encounter with him over an operating table, where I was removing the spleen of a dog, instilled in me a continued high regard for surgeons, and informed me that I was not emotionally equipped to be one. You may know, Roger, that Dr Nuland suffered from severe depression for which he ultimately required ECT therapy. He has a TED Talk on it.
There are many lessons in this book – a series of stories of people’s deaths, some sudden, some prolonged, including one in which Dr Nuland himself disregarded, with great subsequent regret, the person’s wishes. However, the one lesson that is lasting for me is that we do not usually get to chose how we die. We get to chose how we live.
Ted,
Thank you for commenting. I am not aware of Sherwin Nuland’s book, nor did I know about him, but I’ll check out his TED talk. The absurdity of dying in the wings of a blue-footed boobie, although nothing is beyond the realm of possibility, was my way of stating “we do not usually get to choose how we die,” but we do have many opportunities to choose how we live. Thanks for the intro to Dr. Nuland, and reading the piece.
Roger
Hey Roger,
Does God really like pastrami, have dietary concerns that his son’s worried about? And those Blue-footed boobies, cute though they may be, couldn’t you have lobbied for a more fun place for your demise?
Saint Francis
Francis,
Thank you for reading and commenting, especially with your animal duties in Heaven–the ones even saints cannot escape. God is mysterious. Would’ve thought He might have BP and cholesterol issues, or that Jesus would have to connive with staff, but given the state of His creation I can empathize and understand why His docs are concerned, Jesus too. You raise a good point about the Blue-footed boobies. Before lunch I looked at my Nature Conservancy calendar and the choice seemed to be between cold and hungry Siberian Tigers or tropical goose-sized birds–God, as God does, knew my thoughts–tropical with a pina colada beats ice-cold and eaten even with chilled vodka.
Roger
Dr. Marum, Siberian Tigers or tropical goose-sized birds—REALLY??? The birds for me!!! Now that the word is out, I’m in a panic that they may become over booked. Since you have a luncheon relationship with the CEO, could you put in a good word for me? Reminder: Once you wrote a letter of rec for me for an experience that changed my life. Whatever you can do. Oh! And thanks for the fun along the way!
Dona
Dona,
Wise choice on the Blue-guys! The CEO, or Great I Am as He prefers to be addressed, said there is an abundance of “feathered-friends” lined up to receive new residents, and some with extraordinarily soft plumage. I think you’re good to go!!!
Roger
Thanks for sharing and bringing smiles and chuckles to my morning. Glad you saw the wisdom in following the advice of a friend and following your own creative impulses to “lighten up,”. Your humorous piece fits right in with my recent attendance at a “Death Cafe,” encouraging and supporting us to talk freely and imagine our own desired good death. I love how your description of deli discussion and delicious dining with God puts another perspective on Richard Rohr’s recent daily meditations about God being in us and with us always. Write on and continue having fun, mon ami!
Colette,
“Death Café,” what a brazen and gentle way to encourage us to embrace the fullness of life. A double-espresso-mocha-latte may be in my future! If God can be found seated at a weathered park bench lusting for a pastrami on rye He must be, as Richard Rohr states, in and with us!
Roger
Great fun and always insightful when we channel God!
Ned,
Thanks for reading and commenting. I agree that channeling can be fun and insightful when God slips into our lives. However, there are times when I mistake God’s voice for my mother’s, “stomp my feet,” and turn away. There were childhood times when disobedience was a survival mechanism for me. God usually smiles and whispers again–“No, Roger, it’s not your Mom it’s me.” All three of us smile!
Roger
So creative, loved this.
Kim,
Thanks, and glad you enjoyed it!
Roger