The Final Word, May 2008

from the San Francisco Northside

Writing this piece called The Final Word always gives me pause, and leads me to contemplate might this really be a final word from me. A final word? Really. I never thought I'd stop talking. That's why I like to use the space to describe another's story, another's far more eloquent Te Deum and all the sort of thing. I'm sure that even my Last Rites would be construed as Last Wrongs. So I drift from the ecclesiastical to the mere extraterrestrial, if not the downright extemporaneous.
Lots of final words get misconstrued. Now we talk about President Eisenhower's Final Address when he warned America of the threat of the "military-industrial complex." How many though that was some sort of mental problem of his that he'd taken up with his psychiatrist? Of course, now we know, and boy, are we sorry. The great German poet Goethe apparently said on his deathbed, "More light!" But that was in German. He could have actually said, "Is there anymore beer?"
There's a lot of pressure on a person to come up with something profound to say utter in the last stages of death. The first thing I'd think is "I'd better not die here without thinking of a pretty cool phrase that might make the morning papers." It's certainly a bad time for plagiarism, a popular American sport.
Now that I think about it, a "Final Word" need not be a last word at all. It might be the most memorable phrase someone has given to another in the course of their lifetimes. Something that sticks with us when the time is right to pull it up for hope, courage or even for a chuckle. Gestures of kindness go a long way and may even resonate when it seems the lights may grow dim for awhile.
So it might be best to come up with all sorts of Final Words, the ones that crackle for the moment, the occasion, the season -- but not necessarily the kinds of words that come with the dark rooms, the gloomy gazes and the medical mopers.
Let us Final Word this month be proclaimed by the living & the irrepressibly cheerful. My the words hearten those who are about to embark on big changes in their job, in their families, in their way of living, even a detachment from loved ones, embarking on a new venue, or a scary circumstance. Our Final Word as you head out to all this, "Good luck," God bless. Be reminded that plenty of us think of you." You teach us by your brave example, and we say, "Thanks much!" Know that we love you, and forgive us for being so stupid so many times, in so many ways, and reluctant to confess it. We'll remember you in May, and how you look as though your brought spring with you. Now, it goes with you. Sure, there will be troubling, sunless days in the coming months. But you have left us a legacy. It’s a rich legacy. Your Final Word is the light that you leave in our hearts.



Bruce Bellingham is the author of Bellingham by the Bay, and write columns for the Marina Times and the SF Northside, bless their ink-stained, newsprinted hearts.