Remembering a Life That Ended Too Soon
More than memories
Meg's Last Lecture
Through the magic of the Internet, I was able to listen to a speech* that Meg had given to students at Denver’s Mullen High School around four weeks before her death. She had taught biology and forensic science at the school for many years, and she considered being a Jewish teacher at a Catholic high school a special privilege. It was an amazing speech.
“I am dying,” she began, repeating it once more, but said that she was not afraid of dying. She told the story of her life, from birth to becoming a teacher—a job she loved and described as “part teacher, part stand-up comedian, and part storyteller.” She was all of these things.
She quoted from Father Richard Rohr’s writings when he said that “life is hard” and “we are not in control.” She referred to Randy Pausch’s best-selling book, The Last Lecture, and said that this speech was probably her “last lecture.” She said, optimistically, that she expected to live to see Thanksgiving, Chanukah, and Christmas that year, but that she did not expect to live to see the end of President Obama’s first term. She noted with sadness that she would not see her teenage niece go to college or her college-age nephew get married. She regretted that, but accepted it. She said she’d miss the people she was leaving behind and spoke of those who would feel hurt by her passing.
She reflected on her family as they confronted death. She shared her not-too-flattering views of the American health care system and of the experience that followed an episode of having difficulty breathing. She lay there in the hospital, with 25 doctors and nurses around her, and refused to allow them to put her on a ventilator. When she asked three of her doctors, “How much time do I have?” they gave her three different answers.
Meg told of her appreciation of health and time, and the “arrogance of health” she felt before getting sick. She reflected on the years when “cancer had taken over her life and defined who she was.” At that time, she dreaded going into groups and seeing pity in people’s eyes. She reflected on her belief that the treatment was killing her, not the cancer. She spoke about how she had shifted gears, moving from a “why me?” period to a change in philosophy and attitude—she “fired” seven of her physicians, and her anger began to subside.
Her mellow voice described how she had begun to embrace the relationships in her life and how she was relaxing and smiling more. She had even begun to plan her own funeral: the music would be “Ave Maria,” “Amazing Grace,” and maybe even something from the Grateful Dead! She considered, perhaps, donating her body to the medical school so she could continue to teach in death. She talked about maybe being shot into space but wasn’t sure how to arrange that! The students laughed.
All through her lecture, Meg expressed her love of teaching. She spoke of it as an almost spiritual experience and how the idea of no longer teaching caused her grief.
Meg looked to philosophers, religious leaders, writers, and scientists for guidance about life and death. She was a seeker, and she had let go of the image of herself as a sick person. She had begun, once again, to celebrate life and to be joyful. As she talked, she was calm, articulate, funny, and brilliant. She told her students, “Above all, always have fun!” Her voice was steady and clear. She said that she was “getting ready for the next stage.”
Meg Langfur’s speech was a gift to us all. By embracing the spiritual side of life, she shared her wisdom not only with her students, but with all of us. She was an incredible woman who grew more amazing as she became older. We who loved her weep for having lost her too soon.
*Langfur, Meg. “The Journey from Death to Life.” Third Annual Mullen Lenten Series: The Journey. Mullen High School, Denver, Colorado, April 7, 2009.
Published May 13, 2009
Elinor Miller Greenberg, EdD
Silver Planet Feature Writer
