C is for


Although I really like cookies, I'm gonna kick 
the cookie monster to the curb.

C is for CREMATION

If you’ve read my blog before, you know that my wish is to be cremated when I die.  
 Here are my random thoughts about being reduced to ashes.


1.  It’s cheaper than burial and I’m a thrifty, thrift shopping kind of gal.  You don’t have to buy a casket, although most crematoriums require that you are placed in a box, but it can be a cardboard box. 
Like this one.
2.  A burial plot takes up space on the planet.  I'd rather the land be used to build a really cool park with lots of swing sets or maybe a library with real paper books instead of another cemetery.  Or why not both?  Maybe if I'm loaded when I die, they could name a library after me?  I like that idea.

3.  I like the word "cremains."  And you can do all sorts of cool stuff with cremains. (But can you fly with cremains?  Look here.)  

4.  I want to be scattered somewhere, not buried six feet under in some claustrophobic container.  You know, flying free and making people sneezy?  But there are laws about where you can sprinkle ashes, so check with your local bureaucrats before you go doing something like this...

5.  You see that Folger's can right there?  I totally want that--just a simple container to transport me from the crematorium to the great outdoors with maybe a pit stop at the Ritz Carlton to be sprinkled in an outdoor ashtray.  Some unsuspecting worker would dig the butts out of the container and then stamp their logo on me.  I mean, how cool would that be?  

6.  You know how kids hold their breath when they pass a cemetery?  I don't think we need kids holding their breath that much.  It's not good for them.  And it's disrespectful to the dead.

I'm kidding, of course.  The dead don't care what you do.  So what do you want to do?  Does cremation creep you out?  






B is for...


Bacon?

In my bacon-y dreams it is, but on the death writer blog,  B is for BURIAL.



After investigating both options, I would have to say I’m not a big fan of burial, even though that bacon coffin is mighty attractive.

For one, burial is the more expensive option.  Why?  You have to buy a casket and a plot.  And although it’s not a requirement to be embalmed (unless of course you are shipping the body to another state) the idea of it is totally creepy.  When I’m dead, I don’t want people needlessly handling my body, unless they’re harvesting my organs.  Hey, guess what?  April is donate life month!  Click here to learn more about organ donation.

Sorry, I digress.  Okay, back to burials. I don’t want to have a stranger who has no idea how crazy and temperamental my hair is styling it.  Why?
  1. they’ll never get it right,
  2. I rarely cheat on my hairdresser, and I want to continue that tradition even in death. The last thing I want my loved ones to gaze upon is me in a casket with flat ironed hair and clown makeup like Mimi. I know, I know that won't happen.  But it could.


What it all boils down to of course is that what we do with our bodies after death is a personal choice, and for many that choice is influenced by religious beliefs.  

If you take anything away from today's blog, let it be this--it’s never too early to figure this stuff out. I hope this blog will be a jumping off point for your exploration.

Thanks for stopping by.  What's your choice?  Have you thought about it?

A is for...


Well, it’s for a lot of things, actually.  There were three reasons I ventured into an exploration of death and much to my surprise and AMAZEMENT, they all start with the letter A.

It was an ACCIDENT.

I was in my first semester of graduate school at Goucher College trying to figure out my thesis topic.  I was sitting at home waiting for my mentor, Diana Hume George, to call my house.  As the tock clicked past our meeting time, I became anxious and called her number instead. (I’m not known for my patience.)

A funeral home answered.  I hung up.  I checked the number. I called again.  The same funeral home answered.  And the rest is history.

ANXIETY

Maybe it’s because I suffered through most of my life with ridiculous social anxiety that death and its natural aftermath, grief, seemed particularly scary. In the past, if your mother died, I would run from you.  Not because I didn’t like or care for you, but because I didn’t know what to say or how to act and it made me feel incredibly uncomfortable.  I learned that I’m not alone.  Death is scary, but next to birth, it’s the most natural part of life.

ANTICIPATORY GRIEF

At the beginning of this project, I was approaching 40, and I’d only lost a grandmother when I was a kid.  I feared that the latter part of my life was going to be filled with death and sadness.  Yes, both wait for me, but now I feel much better for facing my fear instead of pretending that the proverbial pink elephant doesn’t exist.

And it all lead to a BLOG and a BOOK, but more about that later…