I have never heard of a mouse wake, or a mouse funeral, except perhaps for a domesticated mouse owned by a little girl, as a pet. I guess the difference between a mouse passing on and a man dying is the measure of their respective worth in the world. When an “important” political leader dies, there is much to do, with long lines of limousines, 21 gun salutes, lying in state, and much fanfare. When an ordinary human dies, he or she is picked up by the undertaker, shuffled into a body bag, and whisked away to be buried or cremated. A mouse just dies, sinking into the earth, eventually, wherever he falls, if he doesn’t become a cat’s lunch, first.

Men make everything so complicated, and often, choices revolve around money. In order to save money, an old man I once knew had his wife cremated. He kept Charlotte in a box at the top of his cellar stairs so that he would remember her, at least when he was going down there. However, he was always afraid of somehow kicking the box down the stairs, scattering her ashes on the cellar floor. A good day was when this did not happen. “How are you doing, Carl?” reaped the answer, “Good day! Didn’t kick Charlotte down the stairs!”

Mice seem to be uncomplicated creatures. They seek food, shelter, and the chance to pro-create, and the latter activity they do with aplomb! As far as I know, there are no mouse cemeteries, no “perpetual care,” (a term I find to be a bit odd), and I have never heard of mice fighting over their parents’ home, or stash of goodies they had acquired during lifetime. I like it! Give me simple, any day.

There are no gravestones that are shaped like the greatest mouse of all time: Mickey Mouse, or his wife, Minnie Mouse. No mouse mausoleums, either. Is there a mouse pecking order? Or, do they live such solitary lives that hierarchies are not even part of the equation?

In many a New England town, there is a statue dedicated to some important figure. “Important” often translates into this: “their legacy was in leaving enough money so that a huge monument to themselves could be built” – the ultimate in “You branded cialis no prescription remember me.” On the other hand, we honor soldiers, sanctified by the blood of battle, no matter what other earthly transgressions were part of their former repertoire of behavior. On the State House lawn, we have statues to notables in New Hampshire history – Franklin Pierce, Daniel Webster …

I ask one question – Is one life more significant than another? We are all flesh and blood, sweat and sinew. Is having money, or more material goods, or more popularity than others, the key to heaven? I have been taught not. The Bible states that it is more difficult for a rich man to enter the gates of heaven than it is for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle.

Death is the leveling factor for us all. We cannot avoid it. We cannot prevent it. There is no pill that will make us live forever. In the meantime, we live with all the faith we can muster, believing that there must be something beyond our present circumstances. Hmmm … I wonder if there are mice … in heaven.

Patricia Cummings

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