Going to see Robbie. When there's a funeral home in the family, that is not always a sad thing. Both of our sets of parents have preplanned, and so will I.
Shortly after I was diagnosed with MS, the American Red Cross notified me that my blood was no good. People with MS are exempt. Bad news for a person who had been giving regularly since age 18.
How do I give back to life what life has given me? Donate. But people with MS are also exempt from donating organs. Geez, Louise!
So I went to Louise and told her I wanted to donate my body. She, as a proper funeral home manager, did not approve of having the body damaged, quite possibly beyond repair. Also, it was likely that the remains could get hung up in the process and never be returned.
At the time, I did not tell her that the idea sounded even better. But there are a lot of details to handle even in the cadaver donation process.
So I'm visiting Robbie. Aunt Louise has since passed on, providing us all with a perfectly planned funeral. She was just beautiful in her favorite rose-red suit. No doubt the funeral was exactly as she directed.
That's what I want. Not to be laid out in my favorite suit, but instead to have exactly what I direct. A donation, a cremation, a service and a hell of an after-party. I am Roman Catholic after all, and this is the Twin Tiers. We must have NY State wines and locally brewed beer. And good food.
Because, after the Wonderful Wedding Weekend*, I now have a reputation as a hostess to defend.
pb
Little Pond
*And once I am fully recovered from that Bacchanalia, I will post the party itself.
4 comments:
Hey, make sure to have a buffet with speedies too! ;)
Make sure you tell Karen, that I don't have a tie on. I haven't worn a tie since she and I were married in 99. Oh yes, maybe at my mother's funneral last February. But at mine, NO...Please No.
Oh Yeah! Québecers LOVE funerals. The tradition is very close to the Irish wake.
Everybody gathers 'round, meets at the viewing (where sometimes pretty scandalous things go on, [it gives everybody something to remember,] ;-) and we rarely mourn morosely.
Life was meant to be lived so... Live.
I'm not specifying the food, but local cuisine will top the choices. Spiedes are right up there.
Around here, Norm, the guest of honor is just as likely to be laid out in flannel shirt or denim, as not. I've seen both.
As third generation Canuck, Frostback, whatever you'd call us, I'd never quite understood why we were the only ones who threw an "after-party." The Irish wake was the closest anyone else ever came to it. The bereaved was permitted to drink too much, and the rest of us entertained him or her with hilarious stories about the departed loved one.
There will definitely be a party. I've already invited my co-workers!
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