Yesterday I went to a funeral. Another funeral. I have been to a lot of funerals.
It never is easy to attend the services. When you are a child I think that you expect to bury old people. That's not to say that when your grandmother dies it's not sad. Of course it is sad, and depending on your age and how close you were to your grandmother the weight of the event will make a lasting impression.
Of all of the funerals I have been to, only 4 of them were old people. My grandparents, my great aunt. These were funerals where people told stories of my grandparents, and we laughed and lamented that those who had passed on led a long life and were finally at peace. I wish these were the only funerals I have gone to. I wish that I had only lost old people, and could find comfort in that the older people weren't in pain anymore. But that's not what has happened. I have attended more funerals for young people than old.
The first funeral I attended that wasn't of an elderly family member was when my friend Lisa aimed a shotgot at her head when we were 13 and pulled the trigger. She even missed the first time sending the bullet into the ceiling of her bedroom. But she was determined, and she reloaded and the second time her big toe pulled the trigger, she succeeded. I had experience with people who were suicidal. My grandmother was suicidal her entire life, and when she finally succeded with her suicide there was nothing but a sense of relief for me. With Lisa it was different. We were 13. I wasn't supposed to bury my classmate. I wasn't supposed to bury my friend. But when you are 13 and you say goodbye to someone who was in your class, the finality of it strikes you, and you are never the same.
People in my family seem to die fairly young. Tom and Marianne died in a plan crash about 3 weeks after I moved in with them when I was in my 20's. They were in their 40's. I like to think that it was sudden, and I do find some comfort in knowing that they died together, doing what they loved the most. Being devout catholics, our families put on the typical Catholic funeral for them. It was long, and tedious, and a lot of it was in a language I didn't understand. There was pomp and circumstance and bells and whistles. The graveside ceremony was as lavish as the church ceremony. It was the second time I attended a graveside service. I never want to do that again.
Julie died in her living room 3 months after the plane crash, the day before Thanksgiving. When she died, a part of my soul died. She was in her 40's, and she died in her living room with her daughter next to her. It was so astonishing I couldn't breathe for a year. Her mother insisted that we have a viewing, and I made the mistake of viewing. I will never do that again.
Yesterday was the funeral of a 34 year old man. He died in his sleep. He was the son of some of family friends of ours. It was a very somber occassion, where all the appropriate words were said and tears were shed. I started thinking about all of the services I had been to and all of the people I have lost. And I came to a decision. I don't want that.
Of course I will die. Everyone will. Of a very few certainties of life IS death. I don't want people coming together in some church and singing songs and speaking of how they will see me again. That's not for me. I don't want to have a grave, or a tombstone. I don't want people to feel that they need to come to the cemetery to lay flowers on me each year they are alive and I am not. I don't know if anyone who would even have a role in planning my "funeral" is reading this, but I hope someone is. And I hope they heed this- I don't want a funeral. That's not to say that I don't want people to remember me, or to seek condolences from eachother in the wake of my death.
Instead of a funeral, this is what I want; I want people to have the best time of their lives because they are thinking of me. I want people to laugh, and eat, and drink. I want people to dance and sing, to play games and tell eachother how much love the world has to offer. I want people to think of the best times we had together, not the event which ended my life, or the day I stopped being. I don't want people to gather around a hole in the ground and weep while they lower me in. That's so gruesome. Donate all my organs, and then donate my body to science. Let people learn something from me. I want people to have their own individual memories of me, and know that they can visit me anytime they want. They don't have to go somewhere, they don't have to wait for a certain date; they can close their eyes and find the humor in everyday banality and I will be there mucking it up with the next guy.
So, please don't come to my grave. Please don't spend money on a funeral or a service, I would much rather you spend the money on a fabulous cocktail in Bora Bora; or the corner cbar at the very least!
