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Posts Tagged ‘funeral planning’

Life is like a prism. What you see depends on how you turn the glass. (Jonathan Kellerman)

The four-syllables in mortality sound less harsh than the one-syllable, no-coming-back word, death. I roll both terms through my brain. I may be a senior citizen, but at age 69 I play on the floor with my grandchildren. And I get up again without complaints from my knees. I can tread water for well over an hour before my bladder says it is time for a break.

In many ways my success in life has just begun. “The Curse Under the Freckles” is available online. I just found out that it is also available at Barnes and Noble. As soon as I receive copies I will schedule local signings.

But the finality notion arises because my husband and I sit in a cemetery office—as we make our own funeral arrangements. We are choosing the greenest options, as well as the cheapest-possible. Something like trying to find a bargain at a high-scale store without gasping at the sticker price. Green burial may be our choice, but green cash is disappearing from our savings.

However, we do not want our sons to add hassle to their lives. It comes to everyone and more is unnecessary. I’m amazed at how comfortable I feel. Maybe it’s the outgoing personality of our planner. Maybe I’ve learned to savor life now.

I’ve never organized a party where I knew I would not be invited—well, except this last one where I will wait on the sidelines for incineration. (Hopefully only the earth version, as if I had the slightest vision of the surprises on the other side. Although I choose not to anticipate bizarre visions.)

This moment is not morbid. In fact, I send a message to my sister to tell her she needs to keep her gorgeous voice intact. When she is in her late eighties and I am about one-hundred and something I expect her to sing at my memorial service. I leave the message with a vague reference saying that I will keep in touch. About what? The funeral or my next grandchild story? She catches the humor.

The sun shines and a gentle breeze has pushed the August heat out of the way for a while. Our lives are not perfect; no one’s is. But the grounds at Spring Grove are beautiful. I savor the lines in my skin the way I celebrate bright flowers contrasting gray rock.

I’m not sure I could honor beauty if I had never seen its opposite.

Peace upon all wherever this moment leads you. I pray that it leads you into a more powerful life.

life before death the optimism revolution

 

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