Dust to Dust

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!

muskoka

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 …

cremation glass 2

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.

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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,

Lisa

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.

Read the Fox blog:  Hear what the Fox really has to say

© Lisa Jobson 2017

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16 Comments Add yours

  1. emn says:

    Oh! What a delightful read! Only a topic such as this can send one careening on an emotional roller coaster only to throw you splat into a fit of laughter. I thoroughly enjoyed reading your post today. What a delightful spirit you have, my dear. 😉

    Like

    1. the fox says:

      Thank you!!! Cancer is a rollercoaster for sure, but I am determined to have run with it.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. emn says:

        I wanted to follow your blog but didn’t find a follow button. Can you point me to it?

        Like

      2. the fox says:

        There should be a Follow box that shows up in the lower right corner.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. emn says:

        Thx. Saw it in my phone.

        Like

  2. oceanswater says:

    The chemotherapy isn’t all that bad. It’s of course an interruption in your day to day life. Have they tried immunotherapy on you? Loved this post. Hang in there sister. ❤️❤️❤️

    Like

    1. the fox says:

      No, there is an autoimmune component to my TNBC so phase 1 is to blast it with chemo.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. oceanswater says:

        Well I finished with 12 rounds in early April. I continued going to work every day, determined not to let this steal my life. Everything now shows all clear. Not sure if I needed the chemotherapy at all, but better safe than sorry. Not breast cancer but a 1cm colon cancer. My hoe is that you pull through this as well.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. the fox says:

        I fortunately have short term disability, so I am trying to give myself space and time to heal. I feel as if I am cancer free, but we are chasing that one escaped cell. That’s wonderful that you are all clear!

        Liked by 1 person

      3. oceanswater says:

        Thank you, and I’m certainly hoping the blast of chemotherapy clears you! 👍🏼👍🏼🎀

        Like

  3. mumsthewordblog1 says:

    I loved this post! Wishing you the best of luck as you fight your battle. May your beautiful sense of humour continue to shine. 😘😘🦉

    Like

  4. Kimbo Limbo says:

    Well it’s nice to have options…I love the bio-tree idea myself, but playing with Mom’s (or grand-ma’s) marbles kinds sounds like a hoot!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. C says:

    I had “the talk” with my daughter (and anyone else who would listen, just in case…) I asked her to cremate me, hike to somewhere far away with a fantastic view, and scatter me there, free to float in the wind. But she countered with “I don’t want to totally let you go though. I will have nothing to hold onto until I am ready to let go.” I didn’t expect that. But she’s right. I have held onto the cremated ashed of all 3 of my best dogs because I cannot let go, not just yet. So we came to an agreement. She would scatter half and keep half. Until she was ready to let go on her own terms. I am at peace with that.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. the fox says:

      That’s beautiful! I’m sure my son would keep some. I think I would want him to travel the world and sprinkle me where he could. Afterlife travel. ❤️

      Like

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