Delphica I cannot stop chuckling over this. Your mom and my mom should meet. Heeee.
Yes, I know this is an old thread, but I was on vacation and cannot beleive I missed a Death Thread. Yous guys have some nerve talking about death and all its funness while I am traveling.
We talk about Death at every meal. With my family’s history, how can we not? It drives my husband nuts, but he knew what he was marrying into.
My mom has long stated that she wants to have an open bar served over her closed casket. The good liquor, Irish music and all that. I’ve listen to this for years and have no problem with this arrangements.
Then one day a few years ago my mother threw in with no warning, " Have everyone drink from Waterford glasses with
the Good Stuff."
“Ahhh, Ma?” I ask with a pained expression. " Just who is supplying the Waterford Glasses for our friends and relations to drink to you ?"
She gave me a look, " You are."
“Humpf.” I said, thinking, " I hope they understand that Dixie Cups are now a part of the Waterford Empire cause that is all I can afford."
“You can’t use Dixie Cups. We will look sheeny.” She said affronted, " You never know, I might leave you something in my will."
I have a pretty good idea what my mom wants when she dies; we discussed her wishes at great length when she was sick four years ago. I haven’t talked about it with my dad though. I assume he’ll just have a standard military funeral/burial. I should bring it up one of these days, just to be sure.
They both know how I want things to go, too, in the event of my early demise.
Last Thanksgiving, when I went home to see my folks, my mom took me aside and said “You know you’re the executor of our estate, so I wanted to show you this.” She pulls out a huge, 3-ring black binder labeled “JUST IN CASE” with explicit information on who gets what, who’s being buried where, and where the money is stashed. It really is very thoughtful of her to have all of this spelled out, but it did make the holiday a bit of a downer.
My mother won’t STOP talking about it. She’s constantly asking my sister and me if there’s anything we want and if so, we can have it now and we don’t have to wait for her to die. Then she seems rather miffed when neither of us really want anything (except her bedroom set, which she is using). It’s actually rather funny. I think she wants to be buried near her dad if possible. But actually that stuff we never get around to. It’s all “please don’t keep me alive on a machine” and “I just want you to be happy” and typical mother-guilt stuff. Which is kinda sweet, really.
My dad is a different story. I’m sure he has everything set in stone and signed and sealed by a lawyer. He’s that kind of guy. I have kind of a funny story about this. He was executor of his uncle’s estate (a man who was almost more of a father to him than his own father) and took as “payment” his uncle’s library. It is a huge amazing collection of leather-bound classics and contemporary stuff and law books and now with my dad’s collection added I COVET IT. I told my mom this and she told me to tell my father now while he could do something about it. So I go out to lunch with my dad and we have a nice time. As he’s driving me home, I finally managed to force out the words. It went something like this:
Me: Dad…there’s something I want to ask you about. I wanted to know what you plan to do with library when you…you know…pass…on. (Biting tongue to keep from instantly sobbing.)
Dad: Why do you ask?
Me: Because I covet it. (laughs, wipes tear from eye)
Dad: Well, its complicated, of course, because there are so many people to consider, but I’ll think about it.
Me: OK. sniff
Dad: smiles There, was that so hard?
Damn, maybe I will change my own plans to include an “It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World” dash for my cash! Totally awesome story!
I assume my dad’s got it all squared away, and I will find the instructions when I open the Disaster Envelope. The Disaster Envelope is pinned on the corkboard over my dad’s desk. In case of Disaster, open, read and follow instructions! I have no idea what it sasy, besides that they love us very much and are so proud of us.
We also have a Disaster Envelope with my parents. In case of Disaster, it will tell them how much we love them, and then tell them about all our bank accounts, trusts, wills, property, life insurance and kid custody issues.
As for my remains, I want to be cremated and have my ashes distributed into little decoratove vials. Then at my service, I want willing friends and loved ones to take a vial of ashes. Then, when they travel someplace really cool, scatter me and say a few nice words. I could end up in Tibet, in Tahiti, or in Tasmania!
In case of a parent who has remarried and is a widow/er get EXPLICIT instructions on burial. Make sure that EVERYBODY in your family signs off on the idea.
In my situation, my mother passed away first. My father later remarried. He and his new wife decided that they would be buried together. He asked his children if that was OK. We hemmed and hawed and made no real decision. (I was among the leaders in hemming).
Then when my father passed away unexpectedly, we (namely me) found out that the plan to switch plots was a fait accompli although I still had to approve it. As I drove my father’s wife through the cemetery with the guy from the mortuary (one stop shopping at this place).
The rest of my family was not happy with the choice, but there isn’t much you can do. I’ve made peace with it, but it is sort of crappy.
A wonderful exchange from a film called Lost for Words, with Pete Postlethwaite as the middle-aged son of Dame Thora Hird, who has a series of strokes. They’re riding in the car, and Postlethwaite says, “You’ve never said, Mum, whether you want to be cremated or buried.” She replies, “Oh, surprise me, love!”
As my mother was still alive when my father passed away, she pretty much took care of all that, and I never really knew what transpired.
All my mother ever said in life was how she wanted to be buried, no donating organs, and how she made me promise many times that I’d get a certain pastor to do the service at her funeral. So we buried her, but the pastor she had wanted for years had retired already. Her organs were in no shape to be donated, so that never ended up an issue. (I would hate not donating her organs if they were in donatable condition, but she’d reach out from the grave and give me a nice talking to if I did try to donate them. ) The one thing I would press given another chance is “If you want anything in death besides the minimum required by law, how do you plan to pay for it?”
Funny thing is, I wasn’t the executor of my mother’s estate, but I ended up taking care of most things anyway since I lived closest to her (luckily, she had no property by the time she died).
I haven’t actually sat down to have that talk with my parents. They’re a bit young yet, and both pretty healthy–knock on wood.
I do know it’s all listed in their wills.
Also, every once in a while my dad’ll say something out of the blue about how he wants his funeral to go–how we’re supposed to dispose of him, what music he wants played. And he accuses me of being morbid.
I think he’s just happy in the knowledge that his ashes won’t sit in the garage for years like his father’s did.
The thing that concerns me is a lot of people seem to make assumptions about this stuff. I have known people whose family members didn’t leave behind wills and instructions, leaving the family clueless when the time came. It seems to be assumed that a well-organized and logical person would take care of that, but so many people seem to lose sight of their mortality. Also, when I worked as a Legal Assistant, I prepared a great many wills, and not a single one of them made any mention whatsoever as to where they wanted to be laid to rest, or how. The attorney I worked for did make a point of having the clients sign forms indicating whether they wanted to be resuscitated, and whether they wanted to remain on life support, should that ever arise.
We’ve discussed what happens with the money (mostly because dad, now that he’s retired, loves to talk about financial planning type things), but nothing about burial, etc.
I did have a conversation with my mother a few years back about life support, etc. It was very awkward:
Mom: I’d like you to make the decisions about whether or not to continue with life support or other issues like that should something happen to your father and me {mom gives various reasons why my brothers wouldn’t be good at it}
Me: Okay. What do you want.
Mom: I don’t want to be a vegtable or anything. Your father and I both want to be let go in situations like {mom describes various situations}.
Me: Okay. I want the same thing for me.
{Mom and MaddyStrut stare at the floor for several minutes}
{Mom and MaddyStrut look at each other, then go back to staring at the floor.}
{Waiter arrives, takes orders, and mom and MaddyStrut go back to staring at the floor.}
Mom: So how are your dogs doing?
As we were planning my grandfather’s service, my dad would throw in things he wanted at his service, as they came up. When we discussed favorite music or hymns, Dad mentioned that he wanted the church choir to perform the Lacrymosa movement of Mozart’s Requiem at his service. Pretty tall order for our “little choir that could”, frankly. Maybe we’ll have some more voices by then!
This reminded me of something my father told me. Dad is a funeral director and one of his clients had a similar situation. In this case, the two daughters had asked their stepmother if they could put their dad’s wedding ring from his first marriage on his right hand. Stepmother refused. Daughters were really upset and went to see if my dad could do anything. Unfortunately he couldn’t since the stepmother was paying for the funeral. But then he mentioned something along the lines of “I guess if that ring somehow found a way into your dad’s coat pocket, nobody would be the wiser.” They got real quiet and left and later when Dad was closing the casket, he checked the pocket. The ring was there.
I haven’t had the talk yet with my dad and stepmother. They just brought it up last weekend so I imagine I’ll be having the talk soon. My mom on the other hand talks about it constantly. She sends a what-if email every time she flies out to see us. And every Christmas the last few years, she’s been dividing out the heirlooms amongst the four of us. It’s kind of endearing how much she worries about that stuff.
After taking W/T/E I asked my parents if their wills were up-to-date and it turned out they hadn’t amended them since my sister and I reached majority. It pretty much goaded them to change them…they looked up an alumnus of my lawschool out in MA (awww, cute) and wrote up new ones. Now I’m the Administrator b/c I’m in lawschool (almost out) and my sister is the Health Care Proxy (b/c she’s in med school). It’s sort of morbidly sweet.
As far as arrangements go-every last one of us wants to be cremated and have our ashes spread in India.
I find this a little creepy: my mother’s parents bought plots for her and her sisters when they were wee. So she’s getting buried there.
I don’t know if they have all their affairs in order, but I do know some of our family heirlooms have…odd lines of succession I am required to carry out upon my mother’s death. “This wardrobe belonged to your Great-Aunt Nettie until she died and then it went to your cousin Sarah who gave it to your Aunt Jean and Jean didn’t want it any more so it’s mine. When I die it goes to your cousin Rachel.”
“…why?”
“Because that’s the agreement I have with your cousin Sarah.”
“But what if I want it?”
“Take it up with Sarah.”
“Sarah’s dead, Mom.”
There’s some china that goes to Rachel, too. And a table that goes to Lee. I suppose if I ever have children I can negotiate that the items in question go back to them when Rachel and Lee die.
Totally awesome story!
) The one thing I would press given another chance is “If you want anything in death besides the minimum required by law, how do you plan to pay for it?”