If I can get a blog post out of this I shall mark it up as an accomplishment.
As I was idly reading through various blogs today I was smote smack on the forehead with not one but TWO references to The Great Beyond.
Mr. Pudding began this frame of reference by taking a walk through a cemetery over where he lives in Sheffield, U.K.
Talk of gravestones put my mind into a reflective mood.
And then, as I was reading marvelous Val's latest post there was an aside about a gambler in her area of Missouri who had used a windfall to pay off his mother's headstone!
Well, when one has been smitten right between the eyes twice on the same day it calls to him to take up his duties as a scribe.
So here it is.
I have long planned for my imperfect body to be consumed by flames when it is through perambulating.
Cremation is my game and I had absolutely no plans for the ashes.
Dump 'em, said I to SWMBO and probably also to the BRD, whichever is called upon to take charge of the nasty task.
But having my mind joggled by these two other bloggers today got me thinking.
What if, to my great amazement, there may be someone who survives me who would want to visit my resting place?
Should I have a headstone somewhere with my name on it?
Perhaps with some amusing epitaph inscribed thereon, like "I told you I was sick."
That one has mistakenly over the years been attributed to Oscar Levant.
Then there's this fellow:
Or the voluble Merv Griffin.
Of course, all of these options cost money.
Just ask Jessica Mitford, author of The American Way of Death.
Oh, never mind, she's been gone since 1996.
But getting back to my point(?) what decision must I come to?
To lie under some shrine of some sort or to disappear forever?
Without becoming macabre here, what is your choice?
