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The Last Last Chapter
Funeral Plans
In fall 2016, Scott and I completed our advance directives. He was a health professional who knew how important it was for end-stage care, we both had seen directives in place at the end of our parents’ lives, plus I was by nature a planner. As a teacher, I loathed being absent, so made sure my sub plans were always in order. I had an emergency unplanned lesson of multiple days for every class ready. If I planned to be absent, I was usually able to meet with the substitute before and go over the plans so they could ask questions. Now, I had an obituary outline ready, just like my mom. I had picked out and scanned photos for a video tribute, because I do want ones where I look my best! I have song suggestions, but did not plan every last detail. I believe there is great healing and connection for the family as they plan the funeral together.
Maybe you don’t want to attend my funeral. Me either! Post stage IV diagnosis, I struggled mightily when attending visitations and funerals. So take care of yourself; I won’t be taking attendance. Hopefully I’ll be busy getting ready to answer the Lord: “Here I am!” and being reunited with my mom and dad and other family and friends.
Do not mention cancer in my obit or only give it a passing reference or maybe a clue like “starts with C and rhymes with dancer.” It did not define me. I lived my life. I want to be remembered as a child-like child of God, loving wife, kooky mom, bubbly teacher, true friend, spunky golfer who hid gnomes in trees, rabid reader, and otherwise unique woman who left goofy smiles and raised eyebrows in her wake. I am tired of the warrior who fought cancer metaphor so please work up something new If you find a gnome at a golf course, please keep it nomadic, move it to another tree protected from the elements or another course. If you read a great book, pass it along to someone else.
“Spirit in the Sky” – play it in your car if processing to my cremation niche and give a special shout out to one of my best friends, Kelly, who created the granite bronze nameplates. We purchased our forever vacation spots, aka burial niches, shortly after I was diagnosed stage IV. The real estate mantra “location, location, location” really applied. We wanted to face west and preferred the top shelf. The spots right under Jesus’ outstretched left hand were ideal. it’s nice out, roll down the windows. If it’s not nice out, roll them down anyways. With an exemption for drivers, put your hands out the windows and give me your best jazz hands at the end. I’m going out in style! Just picture me with a lovely tiara, cartoon arms, tapping dancing off in a dramatic exit: a hop, shuffle, step, flap, step stomp then I’m shuffling off to Buffalo.
Please do not complain about Mass not being about me. It is not about me. It’s an ancient and holy religious service. I am blessed to have a Mass said at my funeral. So Jesus knows who I am and that is what matters. Jesus knows who I am! He loves me and gives me more than a cure for my body. My salvation during my life was hope: hope in the ever after. My salvation now is in Jesus.
