I’ve ordered my share of flowers to sit upon coffins.
I know what that room looks like where you pick out the said coffin.
I know how to act when I see a dead relative.
I know how to pick out clothing the corpse needs to wear.
I know to bring a real hankerchief when attending the funeral and graveside.
I know how to stifle an all out tear-fest when my brother sings the saddest song ever.
But I’m not sure how to act now that it’s me that’s dying.
I’m not sure whether to concern myself with these issues.
Could I really go in that room and pick out my own coffin?
There’s no one in my house I could ask. Too terrible to think of.
Hmmm? Would the make-a-wish people help me here? I make a wish all Dopers could come to my service, travel expenses covered.
Yep. I’m calling them tomorrow.
Let family know what you want, assume they will follow instructions to the best of their ability, and consider that buck passed. I would attend that Dopefest on my own dime, btw.
Decide what’s important to you and what you can control and/or define.
Want everbody to wear pink and purple? Say it.
Want a special song/dance? Say it.
Don’t wanna pick out a coffin? Don’t do it. Let somebody else take care of that.
Want us to all come visit? Your wish is stated. Now just to get the rest of the world to cooperate and get vaccinated and get back to normal. I wish this was under your control, because I believe it would have been already done.
Never been to Arkansas. Still on the list if I want to bag all 50 states. Dopefest’s a good reason to visit.
No defined timeframe. But I’ve had some setbacks.
For some dumb reason I don’t feel immortal anymore. Go figure!
I’ve decided to write a letter and put in it my petty cash cookie jar. Where I’m sure someone will snatch it up as soon as I give up the ghost.
I’m really okay, guys.
Just middle of the night paranoid thoughts.
If there’s a way to safely make a Beck/Dopefest happen, sooner rather than later, I’m in.
I think it’s natural to think about some of these sorts of things when one gets to the age we are, and start to experience health issues that just aren’t really going to get better.
Doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep sending good vibes your way, however.
“Not immortal anymore” is exactly how I put it after my bout with cancer ten years ago.
I think the best is to be happy for every new experience you manage to get. Snatch all the life you can. The immortality was always an illusion. You may get a lot of life and happiness yet.
We never were, were we? But most of us kind of felt like it when we were younger; or at least like death was a long, long way in the future and we didn’t have to worry about it yet.
Very glad to see that at least yours isn’t imminent. Maybe enough vaccine will be available in time to have a dopefest there while you can still enjoy it? I don’t think I could make it; but it looks like a number of people could.
People do make funeral plans ahead of time; some of them way ahead of time while still in excellent health. If you want to do this, go ahead. If you know where you want to be buried/ashes spread/whatever, it’s possible to do quite a lot of planning with a pre-selected funeral home.
(No, not that Beck’s still with us!) But I just assumed I’d open this thread to a long, drawn-out plan for an over-the-top Viking funeral with fireworks and a brass band and a color guard of Sasquatches with flamethrowers and a casket launched by a trebuchet into a live volcano.
I mean, if all of us here are going to make the trip, we want to get our money’s worth…
When suddenly the High Priest whips his costume off and it’s Beck herself! And she says “You didn’t think I’d miss a party like this, didja?” And cue the band (The Whotles: Paul and Ringo and Pete and Roger), and the open bar…
I was thinking the same. I’ve selfishly been paying attention to all the craziness that’s been going down elsewhere. Beck, I don’t know you very well, but I wish I could hug you.
There will come a time when every single person reading this thread will have passed. In fact, there will come a time when every single person alive today will have passed.
No funeral for me. No memorial, no coffin, no “celebration of life” (where were ya when I was around to enjoy it?). Just cast my remains into the fiery furnace like ol’ Neb did to Shadrack and dump the ashes into the recycle bin. Whatever comes after me doesn’t matter to me as I won’t be able to witness it from a non-existent afterlife. I’ll be sad to leave this beautiful world, but it’s the way of all living things, innit?
This is a piece of our family lore. My son, a preschooler saving up for his first iPod shuffle, was putting his playlist together, ready to transfer it to his first music machine. I walked by and he muttered “Darn it, half my favorite bands are dead.”
I asked him “Huh?” He said “Beatles, Stones, Zeppelin, Who, Queen, Ramones, Nirvana, … all of the best bands have dead people.” All I could say is “Sorry, man, that’s too bad… but on the bright side, someone raised you right.”
Then I said “Wait a minute. The Who lost their bass player and drummer. Is there a band that only has bass and drums left?”
