Poem for Far Into the Future (I Hope!)

Last Wishes

When the end sneaks upon me

(it will, and I’ll let it)

No fancy funeral

But an Irish wake full of friends, family . . .

And joy of you all being together

(and you being the very youness of you).

I hope it’s in the summer

In our big back yard, the kids playing like there’s no tomorrow

Only now now now.

Jimmy and Kevin, beer in hand, laughing and holding forth

Ed telling lies, the boys

The boys, Colin and Robby, being boys.

No fancy casket, a little box of ashes,

Some strewn over the Big Lake, some

In the beloved sugar maple woods,

Some buried in All Souls (where in a future day,

My ashes will mingle with yours,

For ever and for ever and for ever).

A Catholic funeral, to be sure,

But only by some renegade priest

Who loves the Truth more than the bishop

And maybe sweet Irish whistle music

Filling the air, O’Carolan’s Sí Bheag Sí Mhór, and

His “Farewell to Music.”

“Lord of All Hopefulness,” and

“How Can I Keep from Singing?”

And I hope you are hopeful and singing

And the Girls are all thriving

And you find love again

And healing and peace

And peace.

(And know that I am grateful

For it all).

[Bob Coughlin / May 21, 2014]