Have you decided your funeral arrangements? Have you even thought about them? What, where, when and how do you want your body to spend its eternity returning to star dust?
The options, these days, are endless.
My emotions over the pending Chemo 4 infusion bubbled over today, and tears spilled over life & death, unresolved Mommy issues and not having the strength to do what I need to do. My To Do list is endless and getting harder to tackle. My mind has lost its form and slid out my back end.
So I sat down to write – started research on several blog topics – and ended up having hysterical fits of laughter while writing this one. Laughter is the best medicine!
PLEASE add your options in comments!
One) A family friend – and avid golfer – simply wanted to be sprinkled around the 7th and 18th hole of his favourite golf course. One hole was his favorite, the other his nemesis. He figured he had heaven and hell covered. One bright but clear dawn on a beautiful fall day, his foursome of friends performed his last wishes. Perhaps illegal – you can’t dump dead bodies anywhere – the context was raw and beautiful. I’m glad he is at peace.
I don’t know where I would want my ashes spread. Perhaps bits and pieces all over. On the hiking trails in Ajax, Ontario. In my favourite childhood park in Greenfield Park, Quebec. Or maybe by the Arena. By the shores of Crystal Lake in Barton, Vermont.
Where was I the happiest?
Some of the happiest moments came at the saddest of times. Would my Ex mind if I got mixed in with his mulch? Matthew and I played hide and seek in those bushes. If veggies were really vegetables, then bushes must really be bushables … that’s what my young son called them. I’m not sure eternal rest would come at that proximity … for either my Ex or I …
Two) Have you seen those glass orbs where your ashes are spun into the ornament for decorative display? Your life – and death – captured in a large marble. With my luck, I would roll off the mantle and crash to the floor, bursting into a million sharp pieces. Then, like a predator, I’d hide in the shag carpet and stab your big toe with a razor-edged shard of glass one night. Bloody hell. Radiate pain. For both of us.
There are enough ashes that I can have marble-sized paper weight predators made for all my friends and family. Like little funeral favours … handed out as a token momento.
You could drop me like a pebble into different bodies of water, even your fishbowl. The catfish might try to clean my sides.
My God, the kids just bowled Grandma through the front window … and we can’t find her in the bushes! Did she roll down the street?
Could they shape me into a glass dildo? I could really fuck with somebody then …
Forget about eternity. The possibilities with this one are endless!
Three) Traditional burial in the family plot. I could return to Quebec and be buried in the family’s plot beside Mom and Dad. I don’t really want to waste money on a casket, only to have it incinerated with all your lovely notes left in Stage IV.
By the way, if anyone leaves harsh words … I can and will promise you that I will be back.
Four) Aunt Lisa in the Urn. My beautiful kitty Shadow is still with us, although she died years ago. Shadow was a farm kitty whom I rescued and paid for her surgery. She had a massive hernia which would result in strangulation of her intestines if not corrected. Of course I would pay for the surgery. Shadow spent eleven beautiful years with me before succumbing to diabetes and liver failure. I knew her time had come … she told me. I took her to the vet and held her as she took her last breath.
Tucked away in a corner of the wall unit, is a little gray urn for a little gray cat. It’s wrapped with a red ribbon and her red heart nametag. Shadow was strictly an indoor cat. Once she left the farm, she had no desire to ever set foot outside again. So I wouldn’t dream of burying her in the cold, cruel world outside.
I doubt that my son would want to keep my ashes. Can you imagine your mother’s imposing spirit permanently planted on your shelf? No … I’d have to so somewhere else.
Five) Perhaps I can be placed in a bio-urn and provide the minerals to support a tree.
The Grateful Dead,
P.S. I wish my Facebook friends would leave their messages here! The comments and jokes have been hysterical! I have sniggered, snorted and squeaked as I laughed at them. Losing my marbles and how I roll. Love all of you! Thanks for making a blue day bright.
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© Lisa Jobson 2017