From Meredith Vieira
This morning we did a segment on planning your own funeral, which was inspired by a new book "Grave Expectations." It was written by two ladies who, after attending one too many funerals that lacked any personal warmth, decided (over one too many glasses of champagne) that people need to change the way they feel about death.
Who better to handle funeral arrangements than the dearly departed...before they go? I know this sounds morbid, but I've decided it makes a lot of sense. And it takes the burden off loved ones left behind, allowing them the chance to grieve and celebrate the person who has died without worrying about the funeral arrangements.
In preparing for the segment, I've done a lot of thinking about my own farewell. I know I would prefer a party atmosphere with 60’s music (heavy on the Beatles) and lots of Toasted Head Chardonnay. I would want my family and friends to share funny stories along with some sentimental ones. For example, it's fine to bring up the time I walked half a block with my skirt tucked inside my panty hose after using a public bathroom...but counter it with the time I saved a man who was choking on a chicken bone (ok...maybe that didn't really happen, but it's my funeral so I'm allowed to take a few liberties).
I also like the idea of a "green funeral." even though the thought of a cardboard casket would take some getting used to. Actually, I haven't decided what to do with my body and it's become a bone of contention with my husband, Richard, since he thinks I'm going first (romantic, huh?). I'm claustrophobic, so the idea of being in a box, even one that disintegrates, makes me sweat.
And the whole notion of being cremated leaves me cold. My husband keeps saying, "You won't feel anything," but how does he know? And according to his game plan, I'm the one who will find out first!
I have considered giving my body to a medical school, but Richard says the students will prop me up, put a party hat on me, and take a lot of goofy pictures. I like a good party as much as the next gal, but his warning has given me pause. Just the same, I know I have to deal with the inevitable. And I hope you start to ponder your hereafter, too. If nothing else, it will remind you how precious life is. Just drink a few too many glasses of champagne first.
So long, for now…