My Funeral

ba68bhus9ma-jake-melaraHave you ever considered what you want your funeral to be like. In my short 38 years I have lost count of the number of funerals that I have been to. I am not a mortician nor have I ever worked in a funeral home. I am not a door to door coffin salesman either. And just to be clear I am not now nor have I ever been employed as a member of the clergy, social worker, hospital or hospice.

It just so happens that I have known a lot of people who have died. That sounds kind of bad, but it is true. Buried more than a couple of friends and more than a handful of family. Yep, I really have lost count of how many funerals I have been to.

If you are curious I don’t have any immediate plans to die. Don’t plan on catching any communicable diseases by flying with TB patients, haven’t any interest in absorbing any sort of carcinogens that will have an immediate impact either. To be clear I have a plan for dealing with the grim reaper. When the Angel of Death comes from me I am going to listen to my grandfather’s advice and take him out. I’ll kick him in the balls, punch him in the throat and if necessary gouge his eyes.

The dude better watch out, I have been watching The Three Stooges for years and have mastered the moves.

Nonetheless in the few quiet moments that I have stolen I have managed to find time to consider what I want my funeral to be like. I have mulled over the idea of a very somber affair full of heart wrenching tales of just how much the world has lost. I have an image of stricken mourners sobbing over me.

But then again I kind of like the idea of one big party. I think that as much as my ego might enjoy the thought of people crying over me I prefer that it be a celebration. Tell stories about me. Share the good and the bad. But consider this, those few of you who know the really good ones, if you share those with my children I will come and find you. I will claw my way out of the earth and come looking.

One day you’ll open your front door and wonder why the floor is muddy and then you’ll stumble upon me and know. Believe me, under the best circumstances I am not pretty, but covered in mud and rotting is probably going to be much worse.

So take a portion of the billions and throw a good party. Celebrate. Eat. Enjoy. Don’t cry over what has been lost, but look to the future. Look inside yourself and listen and you’ll find me there.

My children and loved ones know what I am speaking about. Shed some tears, but make them happy ones. Life is meant to be lived. It should be enjoyed and at times devoured. Carpe Diem.

I am going to have to come back to this post every so often and see if my feelings have changed. It should be interesting, dontcha think.

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Comments

  1. Jack's Shack says

    If you don’t believe in an afterlife you are cool.

  2. I’m just glad I don’t know you well enough to have you come to my funeral. I think you might be a jinx:)

  3. Jack's Shack says

    HH,

    Why be depressed. Do you anticipate dying any time soon.

    Ellie,

    Closer to 90 years.

    Annie,

    That is kind of cool.

    Rebel,

    Why by life insurance or auto insurance. Some things require advance planning.

  4. rebelwithacause says

    There is a time to live and there is a time to die. Why think about death now?

  5. My high school cross country coach set up a website where you can list your preferences for a funeral. He did it while waiting for a heart transplant. It is an interesting idea.

  6. MizEllie says

    With any luck you’ll have a good sixty or so years more to ponder it.

  7. Holy Hyrax says

    Duuuuuuuuude, this post just depressed me more than I alread was. Now you got me thinking of my own death…which was already at an unhealty level.

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