Sunday, November 15, 2009

When I DIE

    Recently when I was emailing my mother, (which I do, like a million times a day) She is my personal spell checker, so I asked her how to spell the word cremation, because I was writing a new blog and it didn’t look like it was spelled the right way(you know how that happens some times). Anyways, later in the evening she called me(we also talk every night, in between each show we are watching, to discuss how we feel about what we just saw.  Seem like a little much? Sometimes.) on my cell phone and asked me why, I wanted to know how to spell cremation.

    Let me just rewind here for a moment and say, that my mother just recently found out I blog, however she has never read any of them. So over the cell I try telling her that I was using the word in "a blog" I was writing. During this conversation the phone keeps cutting out and she can’t hear everything I am saying. So she asks me if I am writing about when I die. I'm thinking to myself, how did she get that out of what I just said?  What I was really writing about was when pets die. At this point I’ve bust out laughing because she still doesn’t understand what I am saying (cause her phone is still cutting in and out). So then she wants to know what is so funny.
    So I’m like,  “Never Mind

    For those of you who don’t know my mother, she doesn’t have a humorous bone in her body and doesn’t get other peoples humor either. Oh let me add that she is terrible at trying to repeat something humerous that she has heard from someone else.  It's that bad.  So this whole freakin conversation is what sparked me to write about “Cremation”. I know, I guess you just had to be there.

    Ok, so here’s why I really want to be cremated when I die. Everyone has a good cremation story. Right? LAMO
    No really, I do want to have a funeral. I'm being serious now.  I personally just don’t get the part about being put into a box in the ground. I am more of a "free spirit" kind of person. I can’t imagine my final resting place being in a dark, musty, icky, box in the ground. I know that I won’t really be there, but the whole thought creeps me out. Also I’m not really a big fan of having one place where people have to go to mourn you. It’s easier for someone to forget you. Life gets busy, then there is no time to drive by and visit.

    So I have made the decision that I will be cremated and I will be put into two different little containers (not a traditional urn) so, here it comes, that each of my children can have a piece of me with them at all times. I have explained this to them in advance. This way they have a preference if they want to keep me in their home or in their car, they will always have me close to them.
    Seems like a great plan to me.

    Some might think that discussing with your teenagers what your dying wishes are is morbid. I however don’t see it that way. I think it is important for the ones you love to know how you feel. You never know when its gonna be your day to go.

    You know what I mean!

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