Final Wishes

Yesterday a stitching friend of mine came late to needlepoint because she was busy buying a burial plot for her daughter–in-law’s father. The man passed away in December in Texas, but with no plan or direction about what to do with his remains his daughter decided to have his ashes buried in Chapel Hill where her in-laws live even though she does not.

While my friend was at the Chapel Hill Cemetery she went ahead and got plots for herself and her husband even though she says, “he will never die.” I think they have a long time to hold on to those plots before they need them, but better to have a plan than leave it up to your loved ones to do as they might.

Our stitchers were very interested in the whole process of picking out a final resting place. The plot buyer told us that she had to call the Parks and Rec. department of Chapel Hill to get the woman who sells the plots to show her around the available sites. Clearly selling burial plots is in the Park part of Parks and Rec. I would hate to get the guy who runs youth basketball and probably does not know a thing about what makes a good or bad final resting place.

Having a conversation with your loved ones about what you want done is not always easy. Based on my disappointing my child today because I was not going to her basketball game if I were to go today I might end up in a plot in Newark on the Jersey Turnpike.

It all really does not make any difference to me, just that I want to be cremated. I don’t want anyone looking at me when I’m gone. I currently use the “distract people with some witty banter” strategy so they don’t look too closely at my wrinkles, rolls and varicose veins. I made the mistake of letting a friend of mine who sells clothes look at my winter white flabby legs in black ankle socks and she exclaimed, “Your legs are two different sizes.” Well, of course they are. When your weight goes up and down as much as mine does all your parts are mismatched.

I’m not sure why there is a need for a plot to put my ashes in. I certainly don’t expect anyone to come and “visit” them. I plan on living forever through the Internet, what difference does some dust make? So to my family, here are my wishes when I go, burn me up and walk away. Don’t pay for any silly urn that someone will have to figure out what to do with. Use the money to have a big party. Tell stories and eat a lot of good food. For once it won’t put an ounce on me.