Do you ever think about being dead? I’m not talking about dying. I’m talking about being dead and gone. I know it’s a strange topic, but It was brought up a week or so ago in a study group I attend.

We have an agreement within the group that anything said by someone in the group stays within the group. So, don’t read this expecting to see any names or anything like that. I should preface my thoughts by letting you know that I’m one of the youngest members of that sage group. I’ll be 67 in a few weeks. Most of the guys in the group are well into their 70s. I suspect one or two may have hit the octogenarian level.

When I’m in their presence on the days we meet I feel as if I’m in the presence of a lot of wisdom. There are doctors, engineers, pastors, probably a lawyer or two. And then there is me. Just a retired mill worker.

We are presently studying Max Lucado’s book, Six Hours One Friday. In a nutshell, it’s about the hours Jesus spent on the cross. But it’s so much more than that. Max has wonderful way with words. He can arrange letters on a page that make the reader think as he’s never thought before. I’ve come across a lot of “Aha!” moments.

But back to what I began with. Do you ever think about being dead? That was a question one of the members of the group threw out.

I was thinking, Of course! I think about being dead someday. Doesn’t everyone? As I looked around the table of elder statesmen if figured they were all thinking the same thing. Boy was I ever wrong.

Folks were slowly shaking their heads, saying, no.

I kept my mouth shut. After all I was just the new kid on the block compared to the men gathered around the table.

Sure, I’ve thought about being dead. Dying and being dead are part of life. Right? After all we’re going to all be dead someday, and we’ll probably be dead a lot longer than we were alive. I have life insurance to take care of my wife when that time comes. I’ve had a will drawn up to take care of things after I’m gone. I’ve bought a couple plots out in Oak Grove Cemetery, so my kids won’t have to worry about that little detail. A few years ago, I picked out and designed my headstone which has been erected and awaiting a few final inscriptions. I figured if there’s going to be a big rock sitting over me for a long time, I wanted to know what it was going to look like. I’m a little particular about little details like that.

I’ve already written most of my obituary and planned my funeral. They’re locked in a box to be opened when that day arrives. I realize this may sound morbid to some, but I figure It’ll be my last chance to get published in the local paper. Why not go for it. I’ve picked out a few songs that mean something to me; Do Lord, Jesus Loves Me, and a Tom T. Hall song – Say Something Nice About Me. Should something happen to me anytime soon I want the leader of the study group to conduct my service, so the Tom T. Hall song is to remind him to… well you know… say something nice about me.

I’ve been told that I overthink things. One friend once said, “I do believe you are a very deep thinker.”

I don’t believe either of those statements are true. There have been times folks have wondered if was actually thinking at all! I probably had that attention deficit syndrome that folks talk about these days when I was a boy. My father was always shaking his head at me and saying, “Boy, you need to use some forethought before you do or say the things that you do.” He worried about me.

I took his words to heart. I try to think and plan ahead. I don’t know if Daddy would be proud or shocked if he could see me now. He died young.

I looked around that big table with all those sage men slowly shaking their heads, responding no to the question,” Do you ever think about being dead?”, and kept my mouth shut.

For a moment I wondered if they were being honest. Then it stuck me that I was probably the only one in the room that grew up on a farm where death was a common sight. After all, we did eat my pet cow one time. I was probably the only one whose daddy feared his child was so scatter-brained he wouldn’t make it to adulthood and had to drill it into him to think ahead.

Perhaps I took it to an extreme and thought further ahead than he had intended.

As for the final details that are to be added to my headstone when I’m gone; one will be my expiration date. Another; on the Surname side of the stone below ALGOOD, will be added, “things must come to an end.” (In nice script lettering.) And finally, for those that are mystery sleuths, on that same side near the bottom corners will be engraved a code that will solve an old, old mystery.

So, my end will not be my end in more ways than one. “Forethought, boy, use a little forethought.”

As for the gentlemen that gather around the long table each week? I’ll continue to choose my words wisely.

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Rick Algood
March 25, 2019