Edenland has gone from a look at how our personalities are expressed through our handwriting last week, with the Fresh Horses Brigade, straight into one of the biggest issues humans have with life. That it ends.
And, how do you want people to celebrate yours?
So, I'll take a deep breath, bring on the Fresh Horses to help me dredge some energy up after a week of pain and talk about...
Death doesn't scare me as much as it used to. Death will be a release from pain. In about 40 years or so, hopefully.
I hope she makes awesome, amazing, close friends, to be her "family" when we are gone. I wish I'd made her siblings to love and to love her, to grow old with.
My funeral has been planned out for decades (I went through a dark phase) and the music chosen, with only one additions through the years. I shall have my all time favourite song, Kate Bush's "Wuthering Heights" for when they show all the pictures and I hope they choose the most embarassing ones they can find and make everyone laugh as well a cry. "Bella's Lullaby" (Yes, from Twilight) for the removing of the coffin containing the broken and worn remains of this plaything I call my body.
For the flowers, I will ask people to pick daisies from their garden to throw in the open grave, so I will have a coffin covered with the prettiest flowers and it will have been something they have touched, taken a moment to dedicate to me, something of "us" to stay with me.
I love eulogies. I definately prefer them to be about a life lived to 80. At my Pop's funeral, I learnt so much about his life before my Dad was born. The part a grandchild has no real connection with. It was lovely to know.
I want my eulogy read with tears and sad gaps. At my Grandad's funeral, I was asked to read the eulogy. Which I did with clear voice and lovely elocution, because I really wasn't that much of a fan. I was pleased I kept the anger out of my voice. I don't want that for my funeral.
And maybe, just maybe, they'll put this picture on my order of service.
|The "most often chosen by friends to put on their wall" picture of me.|
Pre-baby (well, sort of, I just didn't know there was a lil' Princess growing in my tummy till a week later!) when I still had a figure, in my "Ginger Spice" persona. Still haven't gotten around to sewing the Union Jack onto that dress. Miss the figure, don't miss the younger confused and disoriented soul! I also miss my hairdresser. I have never found one as good again. See those boobies? Three weeks earlier they had been barely b-cups. And yet it was the nausea that had me running for a pregnancy test. Ditz.
Soz, I digress.
Hubby wishes to video his own eulogy, adding to it every ten years or so. Then he wants his ashes burnt and scattered from the top of his favourite building in the city. The thought of people walking below getting something in their eye and it BEING MY HUSBAND is just too wrong and I have told him no. He then said he'd haunt me if I didn't. Win-Win for me!
Have you thought about your funeral? Planned the music? Do fears of death play on your mind? If you want to talk about it, comment below or blog and link up to Edenland's Fresh Horses Brigade.