a death

I was called the other day to plan the music for and play at a funeral for a man who had died. Here is his obituary, published yesterday in the local St. Paul newspaper:

William A. Trautner
Age 87, of St. Paul Passed Away July 25, 2010 Preceded in death by his parents, Nicholas and Mathilda Trautner; sisters, Frances Mary Trautner and Margaret Trautner. Survived by nephew, Thomas Trautner. Mass of Christian Burial 10AM Thursday, July 29 with visitation from 9-10AM at THE CHURCH OF ST. COLUMBA, 1327 Lafond Ave. at Hamline, St. Paul. Burial at Resurrection Cemetery in Mendota Heights.

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I had been told that there would probably be no one at the funeral. I was surprised, then, when, as I drove up to the church, I noticed several people standing outside the church. It took me a few minutes to realize they were all workers from the funeral home and would be acting as pall bearers.

When I arrived inside the church, about a half hour before Mass was to begin, there was no one in the church. The open casket, adorned with a gigantic bouquet of flowers and made of very expensive looking wood, was in the back. I walked back to the casket to say a little prayer. I noticed William was all dressed up and looking rather dapper for a dead guy! I had a passing thought: why did they go to the trouble of doing all that and have the casket open when no one would be there? The answer came: because every life has dignity and he had been cared for as any human being in death deserved. I thought it was beautiful and in great contrast to the little babies who had been murdered in their mothers' wombs and whose bodies had been thrown in the trash. (My work at LifeCare Center East seems to always infiltrate at moments like this.) Here was a body that had been treated with dignity, carefully embalmed and dressed with great care.

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For the past three days, I have spent much time thinking about this whole thing. When I was told that Father, the sacristan/server (Mike), the sacristan/reader (Peggy) and the two of us musicians (Krista and I) might be the only people who would be in attendance, I thought about how sad it would be that no one would be there praying for William so I started planning the most beautiful music I could think of and inviting people to the funeral. I told them it would be a spiritual work of mercy (praying for the dead) to be there and explaining that I had been told he left no relatives (except a nephew in CA) or friends. However, that wasn't quite true, as I discovered when I read the obituary. Three people had signed his guest book. Here are their entries:

July 29, 2010
Nice, nice gentleman. It was an honor knowing Bill. Jean

July 28, 2010
I remember Bill, very nice guy. Sorry to hear of your lost, but I know hes in a better place with the rest.

Theresa IPC,
St. Paul, Minnesota

July 28, 2010
Bill it was great being your friend...I will miss you Paul

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In total, besides the 5 of us and the 8 funeral home people, 10 people attended the funeral: three women whom none of us knew (were they his caretakers in his last years of life? I wish now I'd asked them!), one man from the parish whose name I should know, two women (Mary and Francine) who had spent the previous hour in the adoration chapel and noticed there was no one coming to the funeral so THEY came, the parish administrator (Cindy), one Franciscan Brother of Peace (Brother Seraphim) and two young women (Hannah and Theresa) who had responded to my plea on Face Book to be there.

It was so beautiful! People participated fully in the Mass, Krista sang her heart out, the readings were uplifting--all in honor of a man few of us knew. I could feel everyone praying for him. It was very powerful!

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I wonder what William's life was like. How did he spend his "dash"--you know, the dash that is on the tombstone between the date of birth and the date of death. The dash represents all the time between the two dates. What I know to be true is that those years were unique to William because he was the only one who lived them. I also know that his life meant something, especially to God.

The Church teaches us to pray for those who have died. What if no one prayed for William? Of course, when I heard about his death, I had no idea if his deceased relatives were praying for him but it seemed very important that people still alive should pray for him at his resurrection Mass. And, they did!

After today, I doubt I will ever think about death the same way again. I can tell you one thing. I have lost my irrational fear of dying alone, with no one to mourn my passing, no one to attend my funeral Mass. The important thing is how I am spending my "dash" and what I will leave behind as a living legacy dwelling within people who have crossed my path throughout my life--a legacy of love, if I successfully live my life. I have a hunch William left that and more.