I’ve never enjoyed funerals. They have a tendency to bring the focus of our own mortality into the limelight. This funeral was for my Nanny who helped raise my siblings and I when we were little. It was sad but it’s all part of the life cycle so it’s something everyone must deal with at some point.
This was the first time I ever attended a catholic funeral. It was the longest funeral service that I’ve ever attended. We’re talking serious long. My girlfriend is a catholic and had to explain that it was long because there’s a ‘Mass’ involved. She’d be better at explaining it than I am. Although I’ve done my fair share of reading on the topic of ‘catholicism’ I wouldn’t say that I’m qualified to give a detailed explanation of the rituals of catholic funerals.
I’ve decided that, when I cease to exist in the physical world, I want to be cremated. I don’t want people to gather at a church that I never attended. I don’t want a priest talking about my life. I want my friends and family to gather on family land. I want people to remember me through stories told through full wine glasses. I want them to dig a hole in the ground to bury my ashes and then plant an apple in that same hole so that I may feed the tree and create the most delicious apples on the planet. My closest friends can come back every year and harvest the apples as gifts from beyond the grave. I want people to listen to music that I’ve hand selected while they talk. I want every story to be told without any censorship. I want people to remember that I was a human being that lived a real life complete with mistakes as well as successes.
Oh, and if I were to die in the winter… I would want my ashes to be saved until the following spring so that the planting can commence.
Wow, what a dreadful post. I don’t plan on dieing anytime soon.. Funerals just have a tendency to make me think about stuff like this.