[cancer] Funerals are real fun

The topic de la semaine hereabouts has been my funeral planning. Contemplating one’s own final arrangements is a subject sure to brighten any day.

Dad has been investigating funeral homes and memorial marker. [info]kenscholes in his capacity as a former pastor has been giving me advice and talking points about memorial services. Mother of the Child has been giving me her thoughts and feelings about the process.

I get hung up on a couple of points as I walk through all this. One, the whole discussion just makes me want to cry. Two, what is the proper balance between my desires and the needs and desires of those closest to me?

The first I just deal with. So much of my life is devastating these days, what’s one more incitement to grief?

The second I think I have a solution for, at least in my context. We’re probably going to have a small, private set of observances at my time of death and shortly thereafter, probably to be led by Mother of the Child’s Buddhist pastor.

Sometime a bit later on, a larger, public memorial service for my extended family, friends, fans and whoever wants to show up, will likely be led by Ken. That will be the last JayCon and/or the second JayWake, depending on how one wishes to look at it.

For the most part, my own desires are nebulous. In simplest terms, I won’t be here to care. But I am very mindful of how the rituals of my death affect the grieving processes of [info]the_child, her mother, Lisa Costello, and the rest of my family and friends. At the same time, it would be the height of hypocrisy for my cooling corpse (well, cooling ashes really) to be sanctified in a religious framework. Can I be a hypocrite when I’m dead?

There’s all kinds of details: Scattering the ashes? Memorial diamonds? What plaque and where? Much of this will be handled in a series of meetings next Monday.

I do know what I want for the epitaph on my marker. It comes down to a choice between two different things I wrote in Kalimpura.

“What are years to me? Like pain, they pass unnoticed.”

“In end, so is the beginning. In the beginning, so is the end.”

The first is more obscure but pointed. The second is more universal but borders on the cliched. Neither can sum up my life, any more than any epitaph ever can for anyone. The dying process itself sums up one’s life.

So it goes.

3 thoughts on “[cancer] Funerals are real fun

  1. As a pastor friend recently reminded me, my memorial service is for those who remain, not those who died. Allowing those we love to process their grief in the way that works best for them seems like the most compassionate move,

  2. Ruthie says:

    Everyone on Earth is like a Schrödinger’s cat confined by gravity and time. Our universe is broken. I’ve met very elderly people who will go to their graves unremembered by anyone still living. No friends. No family. All alone. Everyone they know is dead. We live in a broken universe.

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