The Thursday Ramble: Death

In Vienna we visited the Royal Tombs, and last weekend we attended a "celebration of life" for a dear neighbor who died a few weeks ago. All of this gets me thinking about death.  If, I live to the age my parents died, I have about 20 years to go, at my weight, that is unlikely, more likely I have 10 - maybe 15 years left to go. My greatest wish is that I am able to enjoy life, and that when the end comes, it comes suddenly. 

I have no fear of death.  I am sure I will be surprised, disappointed that there were things I had hoped to do, that will be left undone. But I see little reason to prolong the dying process. "To die, to sleep, to sleep perchance to dream," I have no concerns about what lies after life. 

What to do with this mortal coil? I greatly dislike the the stuffed guy in a box funerals that have dominated the United States almost 200 years in the USA.  Rolling me off the side of the road, to feed the critters is not an option in the USA. So incinerate what is left. Then I really don't care what happens with the cremains.  Toss them in the River, or off the side of a cruise ship. I really don't care. 

The celebration of life was a first time model for me. It was a private event, hosted in a live music venue, with buffet food, and a cash bar. Loved one's spoke, a family member performed live music, old friends - one dating back to school days, spoke. There was lots of conversation, more hugs than tears.  A DJ played background music and controlled the stage lights (Larry was a live music fan.) Dress was casual, with a reminder to wear your favorite concert T-shirt. It was comfortable. It provided closure, without the usual religion filled sadness. 

Would that work for me?  I don't know. Larry had a larger social network than I do. Maybe fly in a dozen bloggers for steaks and really good bourbon. Finally something to do with the bottle of Forged Oak in the cabinet in the dining room. But I would really sooner be around to sample the golden nectar - come for a visit why don'tya?  Celebrate that I was here, not cry over my being gone.