On our way home from grocery shopping and a nice lunch, we pass a large section of road under construction. Olivia says, "I sure hope whatever they are building over there won't get rid of all the trees. I really love the trees and the animals need a place to live."
Anthony and I look at the space she's referring too and agree that part of it is likely to be taken for commercial purposes, but the other side is probably part of the cemetery. I attempt to respond positively by saying the cemetery would likely keep most of the trees; but I'm really thinking as I gaze upon the mass number of headstones sticking out of the overly manicured lawn, probably laden with toxic weed killer and commercial fertilizers, with only a sparse number of trees, "what a waste of space."
When I visited Paris, we went to a cemetery famous for housing Jim Morrison's, dead body along with a lots of other worldly famous dead. While wandering the cemetery, we were greeted by a man who became our self-appointed, tour guide of the "Dead". He made a real living just on tourist tips. He told us that land in France, "is not so much", so when you bury in the cemetery, they stack the bodies on top of each other and after so many years the bodies are dug up and "into the fire. No worry, they are dead."
Although my friends appeared rather shocked by the declaration, I thought it to be rather practical. I've helped with the preparations of four funerals and have concluded that they are rather pointless and unnecessarily expensive. When the grieving enter the funeral home to make preparations, they are shown options for shiny boxes to lay their loved ones for their final resting place. Phrases like, "out of respect for" and "reflection of their lives meaning" are thrown around as is the price for each upgrade. Perhaps your loved one would prefer velvet, or perhaps cashmere would be more appropriate? I want to scream, they are dead, the dead don't have preferences any longer.
Even cremation requires the purchase of a "box" to put the dead body into as it goes into the incinerator. Then for more money, the ashes of both your dead and their box will be collected and placed into a purchased keepsake container, otherwise known as the urn. Now, if you want to get really fancy, you can put your dead into a marble mausoleum, I think you pay extra for the view from the top row.
I have to wonder, "If I don't spend a substantial amount of money to bury my dead, does that make me bad? Does it mean I think less of their life or that they were not important enough? If I don't visit the grave is their memory not respected?"
As we continue to drive home Anthony and I share our philosophical perspectives on the whole thing and eventually he laughs and calls me "morbid ", which alerts Olivia to our conversation and begins her pleadings to know what we are talking about. As we are unsuccessful in getting her side tracked, I explain my feeling of cemeteries and how it makes more sense if it were set up so people could bury their dead if they so desired, but above the dead would be life; perhaps a dog or kid park, a place for families to picnic. There would be no marble headstones sticking out of the ground with names and dates but rather a magnificent fountain that sprays water or perhaps resembles a natural waterfall surrounded by natural fauna. People could toss pennies or perhaps small engraved stones with the names of their dead. Perhaps there would be a digital option where photos or sentiments could be posted about their dead. Real expressions, not dates and dashes on a piece of expensive cold stone that mean nothing and says nothing about the dead.
Years ago one of my girlfriends told me of a source that could crush the remains of the dead into a black diamond. I told Olivia and Anthony, that I think it is "an awesome idea, and a family heirloom worth hanging onto. I said, "Just think Olivia, when I am a dead you could wear me on a chain around your neck. Or better yet, you could donate or maybe sell my dead body to science and even make a buck to pay for the party."
Olivia squeals, "Mom, that is just wrong! Just wrong!" Anthony took sides with Olivia and I took pleasure in my complete revamp of handling the dead.
To all my friends and family - please come share life with me while I am alive. Take that extra time to place the phone call and say "hello, I was just thinking of you". Think of me fondly when I'm dead, but don't waste your money on things that don't support life while trying to deal with my death. Life is short - love lots, live well and do things that make you happy. Hugs!
Although my friends appeared rather shocked by the declaration, I thought it to be rather practical. I've helped with the preparations of four funerals and have concluded that they are rather pointless and unnecessarily expensive. When the grieving enter the funeral home to make preparations, they are shown options for shiny boxes to lay their loved ones for their final resting place. Phrases like, "out of respect for" and "reflection of their lives meaning" are thrown around as is the price for each upgrade. Perhaps your loved one would prefer velvet, or perhaps cashmere would be more appropriate? I want to scream, they are dead, the dead don't have preferences any longer.
Even cremation requires the purchase of a "box" to put the dead body into as it goes into the incinerator. Then for more money, the ashes of both your dead and their box will be collected and placed into a purchased keepsake container, otherwise known as the urn. Now, if you want to get really fancy, you can put your dead into a marble mausoleum, I think you pay extra for the view from the top row.
I have to wonder, "If I don't spend a substantial amount of money to bury my dead, does that make me bad? Does it mean I think less of their life or that they were not important enough? If I don't visit the grave is their memory not respected?"
As we continue to drive home Anthony and I share our philosophical perspectives on the whole thing and eventually he laughs and calls me "morbid ", which alerts Olivia to our conversation and begins her pleadings to know what we are talking about. As we are unsuccessful in getting her side tracked, I explain my feeling of cemeteries and how it makes more sense if it were set up so people could bury their dead if they so desired, but above the dead would be life; perhaps a dog or kid park, a place for families to picnic. There would be no marble headstones sticking out of the ground with names and dates but rather a magnificent fountain that sprays water or perhaps resembles a natural waterfall surrounded by natural fauna. People could toss pennies or perhaps small engraved stones with the names of their dead. Perhaps there would be a digital option where photos or sentiments could be posted about their dead. Real expressions, not dates and dashes on a piece of expensive cold stone that mean nothing and says nothing about the dead.
Years ago one of my girlfriends told me of a source that could crush the remains of the dead into a black diamond. I told Olivia and Anthony, that I think it is "an awesome idea, and a family heirloom worth hanging onto. I said, "Just think Olivia, when I am a dead you could wear me on a chain around your neck. Or better yet, you could donate or maybe sell my dead body to science and even make a buck to pay for the party."
Olivia squeals, "Mom, that is just wrong! Just wrong!" Anthony took sides with Olivia and I took pleasure in my complete revamp of handling the dead.
To all my friends and family - please come share life with me while I am alive. Take that extra time to place the phone call and say "hello, I was just thinking of you". Think of me fondly when I'm dead, but don't waste your money on things that don't support life while trying to deal with my death. Life is short - love lots, live well and do things that make you happy. Hugs!
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