The answer to the title is "When a buddy of yours gets a place dedicated to him." A great guy I worked with for 20 years retired 3-4 years ago, and passed away last year. He was kind, intelligent, caring, witty, and a neurosurgeon. Yeah, wow, the last one almost doesn't fit. right? His name was Rod Smith, MD; in his case I affix the MD because it meant the world to him and he brought honor to the calling. So my hospital made a plaque for him, had local artist create a couple wonderful paintings, and they dedicated one wing of the ICU, where he spent many an hour toiling, to him. Way to go Rod! He would be touched and he certainly deserved a shout-out in perpetuity. So the problem is, I am now old enough to have a buddy of mine honored thus. Dude! I cannot be that senior!! Please agree with me and quickly!!!
Dedications are funny things if you knew the individual. A sad and tortured soul I knew years ago finally ended her pain. Her devoted husband placed a dedication stone in our parish courtyard. It was something simple, "Lydia, we love you," something like that. We don't go to the church often anymore (now there's a long story), but when we do, and I see the stone, I know I know her, I remember her - very poignant. Now Rod. Every time I pass the ICU entrance, I'll think of that dapper prince and smile. Every time someone who didn't know him passes, they will think, if they think anything of it, "Oh, another plaque to a dead-guy." They might equally remark, "Oh, a rock named Lydia." To those strangers, to those generations of strangers, who won't even know anyone who knew them, 'Rod' and 'Lydia' will be cold impersonal names in the night, not even foot notes, just plaques. And I knew them. They were real living, loving, failing, caring, and participating persons whom I shall miss, and whom the world is lesser without, and Heaven is a better place for having.
Yeah, plaques. Weird, eh?
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