...Oh, why/I'd pay the devil to replace her/ She's gone, she's gone/ Oh, why/ What went wrong....
Things said to me at her funeral:
"She's in a better place."
"You need to get a book instead of asking me, because I have no idea."
"If you lose fifteen pounds, you will be diagnosable."
"I still have my copy of Woman's World, the one you wrote the article for? I opened up my mailbox one day and went, hey, that's my cousin!"
"That woman needs to get some different shoes to wear with that outfit."
Things I did not say at her funeral:
Has the guest of honor arrived yet?
What do y'all want done with your bodies when you're dead? Because I personally do not want to be laid out in makeup and formaldehyde like some crackwhore science project.
and
You know, I had to talk myself into wearing underwear for this event.
(She's Gone; Hall and Oates)
4 comments:
Strangely enough, this topic came up in conversation last night.
When I go, my kids will be the ones who have to deal with my corpse. Funerals are not for the deceased, but for the living relatives and friends left behind. I explained that to my kids, then told them that I would like it if they cremated me and took my ashes to the top of a mountain in the Adirondacks on a windy day and threw me into the air. "But," I continued, "it's really up to you. Cremate me, bury me, sell my corpse for pet food... it really won't matter to me, 'cause I'll be dead!"
They laughed at the time, but at least they heard me say it once. Frankly, I don't care what they do- it's purely their choice.
I don't think you technically HAVE to wear underwear at a funeral, do you? I mean, what would Heloise say about that? "Comfort over tradition," I'm sure, and with the heat wave being what it is...
I keep telling Diablo I want to be cryogenically frozen. SHe keeps being unhappy about that. Gee, I cannot imagine why!
My second option is to be in that "Body Worlds' exhibit that's touring around. Encased in plastic. I'd honestly have no problem with that.
Paul, I actually do care what is done with me. I'm an organ donor, and I hope parts of me will be useful, and then I'd like the rest of me to be used by medical students for training, or whatever.
Jon, my pal Coco went to see Body Worlds in Philadelphia and just loved it. I'm not VERY Jewish, but just Jewish enough to find it creepy. Not that I don't think it's a legitimate art project, because I do, but I had no desire to see it.
When I die, I want to go like grandpa, quietly in my sleep, not screaming like the passengers in his car.
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