I am not dying, nor do I expect to be dying for another fifty years or so.
Okay, so no one freak out on me.
So…funerals. I kinda have mine already planned. Well, not so much that I'm going to be handing out outlines to those I want to speak at my funeral or anything. But there are some distinct requests. For instance, for years I've wanted a bagpiper to play "Amazing Grace." Now, I still want the bagpipes but the tune is changing. Sometimes I want "Nearer My God To Thee" and other times I want "I Am A Child of God." I'm not sure I'd want it to take place in a chapel. I want there to be lots of laughing (but so help me, if someone turns my funeral into a roast like that they turned my bridal shower into one, I will totally go all poltergeist on them) and talking. Maybe zumba, too, because that might very well be what kills me. And afterward, everyone should go out for pancakes. No re-heated ham and funeral potatoes! Break out the IBC Root Beer! And there had better be chocolate.
Then there's the problem of where I'd be buried. While I love Utah, I haven't lived here all that long and if the Man ever moved away, I wouldn't want to be left behind (and I may have threatened haunting or something if he does that). Then there's Texas…well, if you've been to Texas than you understand my hesitation. The idea of cremation still gives me the heebee-geebies, but then the Man could just take my jar with him wherever he goes. If he wore jewelry, I'd have my ashes made into a big ol' diamond. Maybe I should stipulate in my will that he has to get his ear pieced and wear me as a diamond stud.
And it's not just the where, it's the how. Cemeteries these days make all the headstones lay flat. I'm sure this is great for maintenance and mowing but for those that get buried underneath that dead grass? Not so great. I don't mind mausoleums. They're above ground and usually very pretty. Of course, having my own cement or stone tomb, complete with black wrought iron fencing and lichen-covered angel statues, would be pretty sweet. I could totally see myself haunting that, you know…if heaven gets boring.
And if you show up to my funeral and there are no bagpipes, then I expect you to go find you some and puff away on 'em. And tell the Man that his new earring looks good, would ya?