Yesterday, on the drive to Follansbee, we passed a graveyard. It was just a large rectangular tract of land in the middle of a valley, with nothing else around except for a river that runs through the valley.
I started to think and wonder what I would like to be done with my remains once I am dead. My first thought was that I would like to be buried on the banks of a large raging river, so that one day the water would rise and carry me away, dashing my corpse against rocks, trees, and other debris. On further contemplation though, I decided that this was a poorly thought out plan because I do not want my tattered corpse to wash up into some poor family’s back yard down stream.
I have decided that I want my body to be burned on a traditional funeral pyre and the ashes to be swept away by the wind, water, or cleaning crew. I do not want any physical memorials to be placed in my name—no headstones, no crosses, no flowers, no gravemarkers of any sort.
I would also like for a public funeral for friends and family to be held, which would be a party of sorts. There would be an abundance of alcohol, music, fireworks, bonfires, etcetera. At this party, people would be encouraged to stand up and say anything that they had ever wanted to say to or about me—either good or bad—but never had. These observations and opinions would be my eulogy, and would be closer to an honest and fair eulogy than most.
An effigy would be constructed to represent me, and it would wear a t-shirt that says: “I consumed more than my fair share in life and in death.” It would be lit on fire and burned up, and people would dance and sing until they were too tired or bored to go on any longer.