Having just attained the age of 70, I have long shared the views of Jackie Ashley about the importance of celebrating the lives of family and friends while they are still alive and able to enjoy the warm embrace of love and affection, because we never know what’s round the corner (Never mind the funeral – I want one hell of a party while I’m still around, 16 March).
In that spirit, having delivered eulogies at a distressing number of funerals, I like to quote from a poignant lament recorded in November 1941 by the much-loved African American blues singer Peetie Wheatstraw whenever I’m invited to speak at friends’ birthdays or weddings. Known as the Devil’s Son-in-Law, he sang: “Don’t bring me flowers after I’m dead / A dead man sure can’t smell / And if I don’t got to heaven, ooh, well, well / I don’t sure need no flowers in hell.”
Tragically, less than a month later, Peetie was killed in a car crash.
Giles Oakley
London
• For years at nearly all the funerals I’ve attended I’ve imagined the deceased leaning on a wall somewhere at the back smiling contentedly at the warmth of the lovely things being said about them. Wishful thinking on my part. I can’t bear that by being dead one misses this heartfelt appreciation by family and friends. I, like Jackie Ashley, would like a party for my life before I leave it. Yes, a this-is-your-life or this-is-my-life, or a-before-I-go party would really please me. It could be fun. But would people be so effusive about me if I was there? Would it matter? I could do some of the talking!
Judy Liebert
Nottingham
• Join the debate – email guardian.letters@theguardian.com
