My Funeral

Do you ever imagine what your own funeral will be like? I imagine that mine will be solemn, just a handful of people there. The older I get, the less I need other people around. Besides, I enjoy my privacy, time to myself, my seclusion. Perhaps even a little reckless seclusion would be nice.

The wake, on the other hand, should be a celebration. I want to go out Irish wake style. My coffin in the living room, everyone with a pint in hand, celebrating, laughing, and maybe even a little dancing. Feel free to rest your pint on my coffin, but please don't forget to pour a bit o' Guinness on my grave when you bury me.

I would like to be set free into the river, or a lake, and then burned upon my wooden raft. Unfortunately, society's laws now probably deem this illegal, and thus I will have to settle for a simple cremation.

A lot of people have music played at their funeral. I have been listening to “If I Die Young,” by The Band Perry lately. It is an excellent tune, and fittingly appropriate for a funeral.

I think I will die at a fairly young age. Ernest Hemingway died at the age of 62, though my time will probably expire a lot sooner than that.  Alfred, Lord Tennyson lived to the ripe old age of 83, however.