A friend's father passed away a few days ago. It was very sudden and no one was prepared for what was to come after. And it got me thinking: everyone important in my life, the kind of important that would mean they're in charge of my affairs after I'm gone ("my affairs," ha - it makes me sound so important) -- do they know of my wishes? Do they know how I'd like them to proceed?
Let me first say that I'm not afraid of death. Why should I, why should anyone? After all, you will be dead. You won't care. It's the thought of the cause that frightens me. I don't want a long illness; nothing drawn out, please. I'd prefer it to be painless, obviously. But if there was to be any pain involved, I'd rather it was something so severe that death would be instant. It's pain I'm scared of.
Anyway, whatever the cause, when it's all done and some doctor in the ER or OR (if it's the kind where I'm taken to a hospital) has called time of death, know this: I don't want to be buried. I want to be cremated.
First, tell the doctors that I've donated my eyes and organs. They can take whatever they need. I do hope that someone gets my heart, though. I have this romanticized notion that if my heart goes to someone else, I'll live on somehow because a part of me, literally, will still remain after the rest turns into ashes.
After the doctors have done their job and sewn me back up, take me to a crematorium and burn my body. I'm Muslim by inheritance, so there may some dispute about this amongst family (or not; maybe no one will care). But this I insist: you must cremate me. I do not want to be buried. I don't want to take up space when I don't have to. Plus, if I'm cremated, I can be returned to the earth or the seas, which I think is ideal for someone who is pagan by belief.
My possessions, if I have any, you may dispose of as you please. My family can decide. As long as they are given away to people who will take care of and make use of them, it doesn't matter to me so much who gets what. Just keep using whatever it is that you get; don't let it sit in your house -- on your bedside table, in your living room cabinet shelf -- and just be there until it has lost all purpose and is nothing more than ornamental or commemorative.
Finally, hold a little... Wake, I guess? But wakes are usually so sober and serious. I'd like mine to be more light-hearted. Try and remember the good times we had, as clichéd as that sounds. Remember that no matter what the circumstances, if I'm dead, it was meant to happen. And most important: play all the music I cherished. I want everyone to groove and, if they're sad, be distracted for some time. It would be nice, to have the Chili Peppers be the soundtrack for my wake. Maybe Venice Queen. I have loved that song since the moment I first heard it, and have always thought it was one of the best tributes I have ever heard. That would make my day, to pretend that I'm who they're saying farewell to.
Let me first say that I'm not afraid of death. Why should I, why should anyone? After all, you will be dead. You won't care. It's the thought of the cause that frightens me. I don't want a long illness; nothing drawn out, please. I'd prefer it to be painless, obviously. But if there was to be any pain involved, I'd rather it was something so severe that death would be instant. It's pain I'm scared of.
Anyway, whatever the cause, when it's all done and some doctor in the ER or OR (if it's the kind where I'm taken to a hospital) has called time of death, know this: I don't want to be buried. I want to be cremated.
First, tell the doctors that I've donated my eyes and organs. They can take whatever they need. I do hope that someone gets my heart, though. I have this romanticized notion that if my heart goes to someone else, I'll live on somehow because a part of me, literally, will still remain after the rest turns into ashes.
After the doctors have done their job and sewn me back up, take me to a crematorium and burn my body. I'm Muslim by inheritance, so there may some dispute about this amongst family (or not; maybe no one will care). But this I insist: you must cremate me. I do not want to be buried. I don't want to take up space when I don't have to. Plus, if I'm cremated, I can be returned to the earth or the seas, which I think is ideal for someone who is pagan by belief.
My possessions, if I have any, you may dispose of as you please. My family can decide. As long as they are given away to people who will take care of and make use of them, it doesn't matter to me so much who gets what. Just keep using whatever it is that you get; don't let it sit in your house -- on your bedside table, in your living room cabinet shelf -- and just be there until it has lost all purpose and is nothing more than ornamental or commemorative.
Finally, hold a little... Wake, I guess? But wakes are usually so sober and serious. I'd like mine to be more light-hearted. Try and remember the good times we had, as clichéd as that sounds. Remember that no matter what the circumstances, if I'm dead, it was meant to happen. And most important: play all the music I cherished. I want everyone to groove and, if they're sad, be distracted for some time. It would be nice, to have the Chili Peppers be the soundtrack for my wake. Maybe Venice Queen. I have loved that song since the moment I first heard it, and have always thought it was one of the best tributes I have ever heard. That would make my day, to pretend that I'm who they're saying farewell to.
