Please don’t take from this post that I make light of death. And I certainly hope this does not come across as tone-deaf in these extraordinary times we find ourselves. Quite the contrary. I have battled most of my life being consumed with the understanding that one day I will cease to exist. I have lost sleep over it. I have known many people who have died before their time and seen, first hand, the devastation that death brings to a family. I do not take it lightly but writing about, and finding some humour in, even the darkest of topics, always seems to make them more bearable.  I think part of my fear comes from not being an overly spiritual person. I believe that when we die that is it. There is nothing else. Which is why I try to enjoy my life and all the small things, as much as I can.

I recently lost my grandmother at the age of 99. Her visitation and funeral took place just as people were trying to refrain from shaking hands and giving comforting hugs – which we did not comply so well with. Her timing could not have been better – she left this world on her own terms, not at the hands of our current, invisible enemy.  My grandmother was an extraordinary woman. Her life was both exceptionally complicated and simple. In the eulogy delivered by my uncle, it was noted that she was not much of a smiler or hugger but nonetheless a compassionate friend and mother. I took great comfort in these words, not being much of a smiler or hugger myself. In her death, many will find comfort that she is at rest with her husband, her son (my dad), and her grandson Dennis – whose death we will never find peace in. 

Reading the obituaries always gets me thinking about what will be said about me. A slightly unsettling thought. And I am going to insist, right now, that the photo selected of me for the paper and little card they hand out at the visitation, be a really good one. Actually, I want it to be the best photo ever taken of me. Even if I, too, am 99 I think a photo from my thirties would be appropriate. Why not remember me that way? Physically anyway. Ugh, vanity. A few more specifics – I’d like the photo in black and white for that timeless and classic feel. Or maybe a wonderful abstract; one that captures my volatile yet charming nature.

As someone who appreciates a good story, I also want an above average obituary. I enjoy reading the ones from the national newspapers. They always seem to really capture the essence of the person. I like to imagine what will be said of me. The beauty of an obituary being that no one would dare write the whole truth. She was a generous person who loved life. She was a little bitchy and controlling at times. Oh, and stubborn and she liked things her way all the time. No, when we die most people only speak of what they will miss about you. She loved tea and dessert and a nice cheese. She was not much of a drinker – though that might have made her more fun. She loved camping and reading and Netflix. She was a handful to be married to but so was her husband, so they made it work. And she loved her children fiercely. She showed them this by raising her girls to be strong, independent women and by raising her son with constant lectures about feminism and equality. She also served one of them breakfast in bed daily and was all of their beloved personal chef. 

I can also imagine my life celebration (funeral). I have chosen a celebration over a traditional funeral. I would like that gorgeous picture of me blown up and hung for all to see. I picture it hanging in one of my favourite places – like Langdon Hall or the marquee at the Stratford Festival where the gathering will take place. It will be a glorious celebration of, well, me, with equal parts joyful reminiscing and just the right amount of crying and quiet reflection. 

The Stratford Cemetery is nestled directly behind our house. Walking through it the other day I was captivated by what a beautiful and peaceful place it is.  I was struck by how such a place could evoke such tranquillity when one considers the devastation and sorrow left behind by the souls that rest there. Can I ever come to accept that there be beauty and peace in death? It would seem the answer is out my kitchen window. 

Take care everyone. This is not a story we could have ever predicted (well, maybe scientists did). Find comfort in the small things if you can. And live your life so your obituary will be a good one!

Does anyone else ever think about these things???

A bit more…an article on Why, And How, To Plan Your Own Funeral