Are You Ready to Die?

Have you made your funeral plans? Decided what do with your earthly remains? Not exactly a cocktail conversation, but it's something we all must--or should--think about before we actually kick the bucket. Otherwise, it's left to our family, and they'll put you in that dress you absolutely hated or bury you in some tacky, gilt coffin in a bleak cemetery next to a six-lane highway!

Not that you can do anything about it. You're dead, after all. You probably wouldn't even care, right? Nonetheless, these things do matter to us humans, at least while we're still alive and kicking.

So I've been thinking about my own demise and trying to make plans that reflect who I am and what I consider my values. I do believe that how we bury or otherwise dispose of ourselves accurately reflects what we think about life (and death) and shows what kind of person we were. Just ask any archaeologist.

I plan to walk you through my own decisions and thoughts as I go through this process, and I hope to make it a little humorous, whenever possible. Feel free to share if you've made plans--or why you haven't.

'Tis the Season to Visit the Cemetery
What set all this in motion was a visit with my dad over Christmas. We had an afternoon and nothing planned, so we decided to visit some nearby relatives---except they were all either sick or not home. So we're driving around the countryside trying to decide what to do next when my dad asks if he's ever shown me where his burial plot is. He hadn't, so we headed to the cemetery, which was close by (a disclaimer: the photo in this post is of a peaceful-looking cemetery in Dallas, Texas).

I thought it would be odd to go see where my dad will eventually end up, but it wasn't. It was actually comforting. He knew right where the plot was. We drove into the cemetery and right up to it. He explained that he had 2 plots, one for himself and one for his wife (although I'd be happy shooting her ashes out of a cannon, but that's another story!). He's had the plot for years, and it's paid for except the fees to open and close the plot. And the fees! Dying can be expensive, and I'll get to that.

Standing there looking at the plot was humbling, however, and a little sad. The plot is right next to a driveway through the cemetary and a sidewalk, so it was like condensing my dad's life into this small, nondescript square of earth. But the cemetery is rural, quiet and peaceful, and while he won't really care once he's in the ground, I think it would be a comforting place to revisit and remember him.

Dad wanted to stop by the cemetery office to check on his remaining payments, so off we went across the main street. The office was small but cheerfully decorated for the holiday with a Christmas tree and several red, leafy poinsettias. We spoke to a friendly woman who went through all the records with us. I took her business card so I'd have contact info. Dad seems healthy as a horse but he is in his early 80s now, so the truth is, his time on this earth is running out, and it's good to be prepared.

Everything checked out, and we left. It was helpful to see dad so relatively jovial about all this (I think he passed some of that on to me). And it got me to thinking about my own final resting place. Where did I want to be buried? Which cemetery? Did I want burial or cremation? A cremation plot or a columbarium? And what about a funeral or memorial service? And who would pay for all of this? I quickly realized that I had specific opinions about all of these questions, and also realized that I didn't want to leave it all to the whims of my relatives or just assume it would be paid for by the magic cash fairy.

Next time: Made up like Madame Tussaud's or oven-baked?