Hanging out in the ER

This weekend, I ended up with a few others taking a friend to the ER. Don't worry, our friend is fine. So, there's nothing to worry about.

However while we were waiting for the results from tests that needed to be done, we couldn't help but overhear that the person in the bed next door was just given about 2 hours to live. It's an ER, so yes, we've seen it on NBC and we know that people do die. (All attempts were made by the doctors to deliver the news in a private, confidential way, but you're in the middle of a busy ER, that place doesn't exist.)

We all started talking about dying and death, quietly. None of us were in our 20's, and we realized that we're just beginning to think about our morality and questioning where will we be in our last hours?

This woman had her family with her, and ER staff was going to transfer to a private room and make things comfortable for her as possible.

But what about us? Where will we be? Alone? With loved ones?

I couldn't answer how I hoped I would die. I could only provide funeral directions. To which one of my friends quipped that I wanted everyone to have a party over my funeral. And, yes, of course, I do!

If a Catholic Church won't celebrate my funeral mass because of the music I pick, then we'll go to an Episcopal one. I want Like a Prayer as my processional hymn and Ray of Light as my recessional. Throw in Hosea. That's a pretty hymn. If I am outlived by Nikki, Laura, Nisi, Terry and a boyfriend/partner, I want them to plan the rest.

But, how much of a comment on my life would it be if I got to leave the church with Ray of Light playing and everyone singing "And I feel// like I just got home."