This here's a very persuasive argument for cremation.
Goddamn Funeral Directors. Years ago, following my mother's death of cancer, I learned to loathe GFD's.
My Mom and I had planned far in advance for her post-mortem wishes and she wanted cremation -I agreed. We also had it stipulated in her Living Will that there be no formal ceremony.
GFD didn't like it when I told him this. He put my bereaved butt in a small room and gave me "some time alone to reflect" and a brochure about cremation. First, it described, in graphic detail, how a corpse burns . Then it had a disclaimer to the effect that the Charnel House could not guarantee that the ashes you received were 100% those of your loved one. They may contain remains of others , as well as ashes from coffins, clothing , jewelry and other personal effects from previous cremations.
I paraphrased the above, but I distinctly remember the "jewelry" bit. Yeah, right. I don't know if adorning the departed prior to cremation is a common practice in atheist working class america, but I'd wager that it's not. Perhaps the wealthy do it. To the people doing the actual cremation this would be known as a "tip".
GFD eventually returns.
"Mr. C, have you had a chance to review the information? We have some very inexpensive optio..."
"Yes, goddamnit. My mother and I had six months to 'review the fucking information'! "
GFD is taken aback- not by my outburst, I'm sure he's used to that sort of thing- but by the realization that his commission on Mom's death was going to be minimal. I hope it was zero.
So he takes me to identify the body. I barely recognize what I see, but I know it's Mom. I'm very shaken at this point, and GFD thinks he smells weakness. He's mistaken. He smells grief and anger.
He escorts me into a 'choosing room' , which has eight or nine crap-ass coffins , ranging from around $150- $800. GFD prepares to leave me alone in this chamber of guilt, but I stop him.
"I'll take the cheapest one."
Mom would smack me if I spent money on something that was going to get burned up in the immediate future-unless it was pot.
GFD walks over to a cardboard pallet in the corner. I thought it was discarded packing material from the display models. It probably was, but it had a $50 tag on it. GFD just saved me $100! I have a brief internal discussion with Mom. She reminds me that no matter which model I pay for, they are just gonna put her on one of those $50 shipping pallets anyway.
Even after you're dead, people are still ripping you off.
So what to do? Covert pyre? I need to research the legality of this alternative. The current Government seems to frown on all things pagan.
You could buy a deep-sea fishing boat, connect a heart monitor to a shaped charge on the hull so if , for instance, your heart stopped for longer than 15 minutes or so ; a bomb would sink your boat into the abyss. That's too complicated.
Jump into a vat of acid and dissolve? Into a slurry pit at a frankfurter plant and be recycled?
Maybe, but the catch is- you have to be alive in order to make that leap.
Leaps are like that.
Anything else is just a toss.
2 comments:
great post...thought provoking...
...thanks most...bon mots evoking...
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