If I haven’t told you this before, given the choice, I’m being cremated. I like the idea of being permanently disposed of. I love the crazy-good cost savings of cremation, over needing a plot and a casket and all that. I sleep well with the thought that one day I’ll dissolve into Lake Sutherland and into the Pacific ocean. All in all, cremation fits who I am and what I do.
But every now and again, something makes me think for a bit about the other options. Such as this story about ancient Greek skeletons found in an embrace
Which also reminded me of this picture from this story from Caleb Wilde’s highly amusing Confessions of a Funeral Director blog
All this thinking and reading reminds me that my plans are just that–plans. Thankfully, because I practice what I preach, they’re only written safely down and communicated, but not paid for or committed to in any irrevocable fashion.
Perhaps, as I grow older with Mr. P (20 years together, and I’m still only 29–so maybe I should restate that?!)…as we move toward finishing our lives together, I may feel the need to create something like the above, the chance for us to continue our pairing on the other side, maybe the need to leave a more permanent memorial to our time together, beyond the inherited rings and china our kids and grandkids will get. Will just mingling our ashes be enough? Will I need it in stone somewhere?