Thread: "...naked as he came..."

I don't know if this is a thread really or just a reflection or a ponderance. Last month I saw my neighbor (89) across the street drive into his driveway in the afternoon. He has lived alone since his wife (92) died last year. The next day his daughter called me and said she couldn't get him on the phone and would I knock on the door. Long story short they cart him off in an ambulance and during the night he passed. Turns out he had had a stroke.

Segue to yesterday when I drove up for lunch they had put all his belongings that the vultures left out on the driveway.


An hour later the Got Junk truck had loaded it all up.


I feel Richard was fortunate in that he lived on his own by his own terms up until the end of his life but to see the disposal of all your stuff in that cavalier fashion just seems so unceremonious.

One day you're going about your business as usual and the next they throw your stuff in the landfill, meanwhile the river never stops flowing and the sun goes about it's regular route.

I guess I...we all really, know these things but now and then we get reminded that even the great ones whose names are carved in granite will pass through the hourglass like the sands and not be long remembered.

"Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun-- all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the grave, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom."

Travel well old friend. I'll miss you.

Originally Posted by PaulFLUS

I don't know if this is a thread really or just a reflection or a ponderance. Last month I saw my neighbor (89) across the street drive into his driveway in the afternoon. He has lived alone since his wife (92) died last year. The next day his daughter called me and said she couldn't get him on the phone and would I knock on the door. Long story short they cart him off in an ambulance and during the night he passed. Turns out he had had a stroke.

Segue to yesterday when I drove up for lunch they had put all his belongings that the vultures left out on the driveway.


An hour later the Got Junk truck had loaded it all up.


I feel Richard was fortunate in that he lived on his own by his own terms up until the end of his life but to see the disposal of all your stuff in that cavalier fashion just seems so unceremonious.

One day you're going about your business as usual and the next they throw your stuff in the landfill and the river never stops flowing and the sun goes about it's regular route.

I guess I...we all really, know these things but now and then we get reminded that even the great ones whose names are carved in granite will pass through the hourglass like the sands and not be long remered.

"Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun-- all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the grave, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom."

Travel well old friend. I'll miss you.

Ecclesiastes 9:9

Very poignant Paul, just about say's it all.

I've pondered on this very subject more than once, in what would become of my belongings, once I'm gone.

Not that it really matters anymore..I'm dead.

My thoughts are to try and sell off all my belongings before hand, at least the most valuable item's. Move into an apartment, then spend the money on whatever, and leave the rest to my kids and grandkids once I depart.

Other things have been set up, should my wife survive me.

Only thing you can take with you, are memories.

"...As he comes, so he departs. He takes nothing from his labor that he can carry in his hand."

I thought what my father did was wise. He gave his belongings to my brothers and I that he wanted us to have over the last few years of his life. That way he made sure they went where he wanted them to go and he got to see us receive them.

Originally Posted by outback

Only thing you can take with you, are memories.

As my Mum used to say " Shrouds don't have pockets".

Something to ponder, I wrote this some time ago. it's called what happens when you're gone.

I was getting ready to shave last night and picked out my weapons, my DD Golden Mandarin and my Thater Brush and hmm… lets see I’ll use Obie’s revenge (MDC soap) and finish with some Royall Spice AS. Well I’m lathered up and strop up the razor and start the first stroke down my chin and unnoticed the missus walks by and decides I’m in the way of her getting into the closet and slams the door into my back. Oh, sorry dear you didn’t hurt yourself did you? Why of course not the streams of blood running down my face are very becoming aren’t they? Gee you should be more careful ,yes YOU should shouldn’t you. Well, stopped the bleeding, ruined my shave and the thing keeps opening up in bed. Finally I doze off to slumber land and wakeup with a start and hey, what’s going on here, where am I?

I look around and I’m in some room in what looks like a funeral parlor. I see all these relations I haven’t seen in years and there’s some guy in the corner in a coffin. I see Cousin Art in the corner, heck when did he get out of prison? I thought he would be there another 20 years. I say how you doin Art? Why he doesn’t even bother to respond feedin his face with mini pizzas. I see Cousins Eric and Rob talking in the corner so I go over to them and they don’t respond either so I figured I’d stick around.

Eric says well what did he leave you? Heck if I know I got a box of rocks of some kind. All different colors, some blue some beige some green. Some got some oriental writtin on them. Some are sealed on wood bases. Now why would someone put a rock in a wood base? I got the perfect thing to do with them, I’m gonna use them to patch the stucco on the side of my house they’ll look good there and keep the wind out. What you get Rob? Heck I don’t rightly know. I think they be giant paint brushes? Really, I didn’t know he was an artist. Yea one is marked Plisson, France and it say size 85 and on the handle it say something about white mountain and …uh…I-v-o-r- uh you know that be from that outfit Ivor Johnson who make those Saturday Night Specials that be junk. Yea I got it here I’m gonna throw it in the trash. The others I’ll give to my kids to use to paint with.

I went back over to Art who was talking to Uncle Joe and Joe says he got these giant letter openers. Art says what you gonna do with those? He says I don’t know I got one Purdy one that’s all shiny and it say Maestro… heck that be Spanish for teacher. Some teacher used that to open mail. Yea I never did cotton much to school or those school marms I’m gonna throw it in the trash. The other ones I’m gonna use to pry open cans. How about you Art? Well, I got these pots with white stuff in them. One says something about Martins Candy I was gonna test it but the dog got it and boy we had some mess he got all foamed in the mouth and ran around the neighborhood like that and officer Johns shot him thinking he be rabid. I’m gonna use the rest of the pots to wash the goat. Just then Cousin Billie came over and said you know what that weirdo left me? I got all these leather belts. But they be too short to wear and they ain’t got no buckles. I’m gonna punch holes in them and put things in them. Joe says you stupid or something those be whips. He must have been one of those folks who whip themselves for fun or maybe he think he’s that Zorro fella. Yea one say something about Kana…err..kaya…heck it have the number one million on it and it be an inch thick. I’m gonna cut that one into little strips and make thimbles out of it.

I got to thinkin who the guy in the box was and what junk he left his relations so I walked over and looked down and hey wait a minute that’s me there.

So I see the funeral guy talking to his assistant and the assistant says how the deceased got those scars all over his face? The director say well my electric shaver quit on me so I had to use my Ginsu kitchen knife to shave him. It don’t matter he be one of those straight shavers and those guys are nuts anyway and they always slice their faces, they like it that way. That be a known fact.

All of a sudden I’m standing in this auditorium and there’s this auction goin on and the auctioneer says he got this collection of rare razors from this dude who passed away. He starts talking about how backwards these people are who actually use these and this guy was a real troglodyte. Yea he picks up the razor and shows it and starts saying how he can’t believe anyone would actually use this and starts berating the deceased and the crowd starts cheering and laughing at the deceased whose picture (in the coffin with all the scars on his face is flashed on this giant screen) and they start throwing things at the picture and no wants to bid on the razors and he has to pay people to take them away.

Next thing I know it’s morning and my face and pillow are full of blood and I have to finish the shave I started last night going around the cut. Yea, the missus says I wish you got rid of all this junk and just replaced it with a simple electric shaver. Afterall, when you’re dead and gone what is going to happen to all this junk?

Tobacco and okra? I got a bunch of both growing, myself. Picked 6 lbs of tobacco and a half pound of okra this morning.

If I pass before my wife, she has a pretty good idea what stuff is worth. I showed her how to take razor pics, pack them, and auction them one a day, and get a little bit for them. She will probably keep my .380 for her purse gun, my Pietta 1858 Remington, and the 1911 I am currently building, out of sentiment, and sell all the rest of my gun stuff and she has a pretty good idea what everything is worth. My growing cigar collection will be well kept, and in a year or two she will probably start giving them to friends and family that smoke them and appreciate them. Likely she will put the boat on the market but no hurry to get rid of it. Other than razor stuff, gun stuff, cigars and tobacco stuff, and the boat, I really don't have a lot of junk. Well, tools, but she is handy with tools. My tshirts will make good rags. She will donate my jeans, toss my old boots and sneaks, toss my drawers and socks, keep a couple of my favorite hats out of sentimental value, and probably box up and sell as "parts, as is" all my jury rig computer and electronic stuff as most of it you have to build it to understand it, So really, nothing of actual value will get tossed. I have thought on this a bit, myself, looking at 64, so probably only another 30 years or so left to live.

If she goes before me, I will be doing some major downsizing. I actually need maybe 5% of all the pots, pans, dishes, furnishings and appliances that we have, just taking care of myself. By the time I die there probably won't be a whole lot for the junk man, other than my old boots and sneaks, socks and tshirts. I will probably be living in one room, or else sell the house and live on the boat or in an apartment.

I have seen way too many driveways full of the junk collected during a long lifetime. It really makes you question how badly you want more "stuff", especially knowing that nobody will find it to be of any use or value after your death. I really feel sorry for dead people's pets. We have one, a crawfish named Thibodaux, and we will probably both outlive him and anyway he will be quite satisfied to be turned loose in the bayou or in a canal. I don't think he has the mental capacity to miss mommy and daddy, other than maybe irritation at being forced to get his own food and running from hungry catfish.

One thing is for sure, I won't be going to a "home". I have way better ways to end my life with dignity if I find myself no longer able to take care of myself. No stranger will ever know the privilege of spoon feeding pureed carrots to me or changing my depends. Good on Richard, staying independent to the end.

Loved it. I had the wife read it and she said yes, what are you going to do with all that junk.