What to do with my innards when I die
But, should something happen to me . . . I'm not really convinced that my other half fully understands my post-mortem wishes. So, I hope one of my friends will direct him to this blog post. (He does not read my blog, in case you hadn't guessed.)
- If I have any body parts that the medical establishment could make use of, it is welcome to them. A lot of my parts don't work right (thanks for nothing, uterus!) but maybe I have a kidney or an eyeball that might help someone out. I'm sure my broken thumb is out of the running. (A side note to my friends: would you people stop texting me? my thumb does not freakin' bend and it takes me an hour to respond!)
- I don't really care what happens to my body after that. I think the law requires that something be done with it, however, so please have me cremated. I do not want to be buried under any circumstances. I mean, how long can we keep shoving bodies in the earth anyway?
- I don't know what to say about my ashes. All I ask is that I not be placed next to my father-in-law in our basement. We've had him down there since he died in 2006 and we have no idea what to do with him. I used to think I wanted my ashes spread in a park in West Virginia. My Pop-Pop lived in WV until his death in 1989 and he was so well-liked in his community that they put up a plaque in his honor at a nearby park. But now I don't remember where it is, so that might be a problem. I love the ocean, so maybe just dump me there?
- A funeral really isn't necessary, but I wouldn't be opposed to some sort of party in my memory. The only catch is that only good music is permitted. Hook up my iPod if you want (but first please delete the Coolio song that my friend Dave put on there - I've been meaning to do that forever).
- Please call my pastor at the UU fellowship and have her come to the party to say witty, meaningful stuff.
- I don't pretend to know what happens to us when we die, so everyone can skip all the conjecture. In other words, none of this "she's in a better place" stuff when I kick the bucket because really, you don't know.
After some respectable period of time has passed, P is welcome to re-marry. However, it goes without saying that she will probably be a slut who will never measure up to my legacy. Ha ha! Just kidding! Maybe.
And finally, someone please tell my baby girl that I love her "big much," just like she always says to me. And that goes for my friends (two-legged and four-legged) and family, too. I don't feel the need to wax poetic about that because, if I have done things the right way during my earthly days, they already know.