Corona Conversations

        

It doesn’t take much these days to send a perfectly good conversation into ridiculous and macabre territory.

That’s what happened during a phone chat recently with a dear friend of many years and one who has a year or two on me.  We took a turn into the morbid with much laughter as a consequence.

It all started with my encouraging her to stay home as much as she can.  She said I didn’t have to worry about that….no way was she going to get sick and die from this virus.  Certainly not now.

“Why not now?” I asked.   Because, she said, when I die, I want a funeral.  A real, honest to God, funeral. The one I’ve planned, specified to a tee and am going to have.

She wants her friends in the pews, sitting hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder.  No social distancing. 

She wants a full choir, singing to the rafters.  Belting out her favorite hymns.  No masks to muffle the music.  Or contain those “droplets” that accompany a heartfelt song.

She wants the peace offering…. people shaking hands with each other.  No elbow bumps.

She wants a full communion, too.  Everyone’s lips on the shared chalice.

And, finally, she wants a reception with lots of hugs and just as much booze.   At that point, it’s a party.  And we all know what happens at a good party.

We both agreed that she’s got a pretty good amount of time left in this life since that old way of life looks to be a far piece into the future.

Maybe it was the craziness, the loneliness, the isolation, but we laughed, together and heartily.  Neither of us currently has the virus, at least as of today.  Probably because laughter, as we all know, is the best medicine.