Cremation - Thinking Outside the Box

This topic might not be wise, considering that I had a heart attack 6 weeks ago. On the other hand, the Grim Reaper has a universal address book and GPS system and knows how to find each of us. The day will come, without fail, so we might as well have a sense of humor about it.

I don't like cremation. Are you listening, Robin, Ron, Allison, and Angela? I'm too old to think outside the box. Besides, I hate dust. I've lived with dust all my life. I can swipe a cloth across a table and a new sprinkling of dust appears within minutes. I don't want to become dust particles. I want to take up a plot of ground with a shiny metallic box in pale pink, and go down six feet. I want to cost money on the way out. In addition to dust, I've had enough of ovens, too.

Robin's Mom, Dad, and Sis reside in our home. It was freaky at first, but I've gotten used to them. They are still in cardboard boxes so it's easy to think of them as stored documents, old business transactions, or pictures. I'm beyond coming face to face with those boxes and wondering if Robin ordered something for me. I'm not curious, either. Not one bit. The first time I met "Dad", we were visiting Robin's rented storeroom. "Say hi to Dad. He's sitting on the riding lawnmower," Robin informed me. I almost wet my pants. We tried to send Mom, Dad, and Sis home with Robin's sister, Kate. We figured it was time. She didn't. So they remain with us, just waiting for the day when Robin returns to Tampa to scatter them in the ocean as they requested. Shark food. Makes me shiver.

My friend, Patty, wants to be cremated. I've begged her not to (assuming she goes first), that I need time with her in her recognizable form to say my good-byes. I don't know what to say if I'm standing before a cardboard box or jeweled case. I want flesh and bones. Patty doesn't like to see dead people, and she doesn't want anyone standing over her and saying, "Oh! Doesn't she look good!" I do. I want to look good for anyone who cares to come to my funeral.

I have no qualms with the tree-huggers or other practical people who opt for cremation. It does take up less space and tends to be more economical. If their mental psyche can handle it, go for it. Mine can't. I don't want to place a loved one in an oven and reduce to ashes the one thing that made them visually familiar to me. Bread goes in ovens, people don't.

My final wishes have been made clear in this post. Let me return to dust the natural, slow way. I don't want to be stored on a shelf in Robin's office with Mom, Dad, and Sis. I don't want my kids fighting over me. "I want Mom." "No, it's my turn to have her ash." "You can have my turn. I don't want human dust mites floating all over my house!" And when the afternoon sun filters through a window, illuminating the airborne particles, I don't want anyone to ask, "Mom, is that you?"