I’m 74 and at an age where friends from high school have begun passing on. This was the last thing on any of our minds back in those days. Death was something that only happened to old people and it really was the farthest thing from our minds.
Well, surprise, surprise … we have arrived. We’re old.
What I’m noticing from the obits is how many don’t want funerals, or wakes. I think it must be a sign of the times. The way things are in the world, people don’t know what to expect tomorrow. They either don’t have the money or they aren’t willing to spend any on a funeral and all the trappings.
Now, I'll probably get some flak for this, but I’m one of those people who doesn’t want a funeral, or a wake. I want to keep it simple and I have it all planned out.
My family is aware of how I feel. They’ve known for years. Even my Funeral Director son-in-law, who loves and respects me (I hope), knows. While he probably thinks I’m a batty old lady, a funeral is just not for me and I’m pretty sure he respects that, too.
A memorial service, maybe —but no funeral. I don’t want anyone staring down at me in a casket, saying how good, (or bad), I look. Truth be known, no one ever says what they’re really thinking,
“My God, she looks … dead. I hope I won’t look that bad when I die.”
Not having a funeral would also be useful (and satisfying) for keeping a couple of ex-husbands away. No doubt, they would come just to make sure I really was … dead.
Add to that the people who didn’t bother to spend time with me during my life. Why would I want them to come gawk at me once I’m gone?
I’ve already told Robert, “When I’m about to take my last breath, kiss me goodbye, prop me in my comfy chair with my favorite photos and a copy of each of my books in my lap, then light a match and set the whole dang chair on fire. Then you can collect the ashes and here’s what to do with them:
With the money you save by not having a funeral, take a cruise to the Caribbean and invite my three daughters to come along. They live so far apart —it would be good for them to have that time together and with you. Spread all but a cup of my ashes over the aquamarine water I loved so much in life.
When you get home, fill a huge box with all kinds of fireworks. Then add that last cup of my ashes to the box and light ’em all up at the same time in the back yard.”
* KA - B O O M *
Now that’s a proper send-off …
You've got the right idea, C.J. No one in their right mind would want to be on display in all their post-mortem glory for friend and foe alike to "pore over," as in, "Gee, I never realized what large pores she had..."