Thursday, July 28, 2011

And while we're on the subject ...

I'm gonna die someday.  I don't plan on it any time soon, though some days my head hurts so bad I think it would be a blessing.  Still, I think I'll stick around awhile, God willing.  But, eventually the day will come when it's my turn to go.  I'm not afraid of death.  I'm curious, and I believe there is more to us than just this life here and now.  But there are some things I want to put in writing, so there is a record somewhere of my wishes for my mortal remains after I'm gone.  I hope I go before Bud.  He knows my wishes and has promised to abide by them.  But just in case he goes first and my sisters or someone (good grief, I can't imagine who would get stuck with the task if Bud and my sisters were gone) have to do the job, please believe me when I say this is what I want.

I really, really, really do NOT want to be buried.  It has nothing to do with my fear of the dark or any uneasiness about small, dark, enclosed places.  It has to do with my belief that it is totally a waste of space.  There's already not enough room on this planet for all the people who live here.  I refuse to take up a huge space just so someone can chunk my remains in the ground and say that's where I am.  THAT IS NOT WHERE I WILL BE!  Then there's the highway department.  In every place I have lived, the highway department has dug up people and moved them so they could build another road.  I'll bet none of those people thought they'd be traveling years after they had been placed in their "final resting place".  I want to be cremated.

I do not want a funeral, or memorial service, or any kind of gathering together of people to mourn my passing.  If you miss me, mourn me privately in your own way.  I want my ashes taken to a beach (the more tropical the better) and I want those in attendance to celebrate my life and whatever joy I might have brought into their lives.  I plan to have gone on to bigger and better places, so you should all be happy.

It's okay for whoever is taking care of my final arrangements to put an obituary in the paper.  I just hope whoever that person is has enough sense to put in the cause of death.  I hate reading an obituary that doesn't tell me why the person died, especially if it's a younger person.  Of course, at 63 (very soon), a lot of the dead are younger and a whole lot more are my age.  That is a little disheartening sometimes.

I've left all my worldly possessions to Bud, but seriously we're not talking about much.  My biggest concern is what will happen to my dogs.  If Bud is still around, the dogs will be fine.  But if he's already gone on, I need to know someone will take care of my babies.  My friends Tim and Ann have said they would, of course, take care of them.  Unfortunately, they are pretty much the same age I am, so who's to say if they'll still be around.  I know once I'm dead, what happens to my dogs will probably not matter to me, but I still hate to think their lives will be left to chance.  I haven't figured out yet exactly how to fix this little problem.  I'm hoping I have time to solve it before it becomes an issue.

That's about it.  I don't think it's much to ask.  It shouldn't be too awfully expensive, so I'm hoping whoever needs this information, will do as I have requested.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011


I've been thinking a lot about death lately.  Not my own, just death in general.  What really brought it to the forefront of my mind is that we had a death in the family, and neither Bud nor I care.  Somehow that feels wrong.  It's not wrong when you examine it, but it just feels wrong.  How sad that someone we know has passed and it is of so little significance to us.

It all goes back to Bud's ridiculous home life when he was a child.  He is the oldest of five children.  His mother had those five children over the course of six years.   There is Bud, then his sister Cheryl, then his sister Debbie, then his brother Kevin (who has left us already) and then his brother Michael.  Without going deeply into the dynamics of this incredibly dysfunctional family, it should be said that the girls are not now and never have been a part of our lives.  Kevin died when he was in his early 20's, so he managed to miss out on some of the worst of the mess, but he got his share before his death, unfortunately.  Bud and Mike have a very close relationship.  Mike spent some number of years trying to have a relationship with his sisters, but it just isn't possible to keep your self-respect and maintain any kind of affiliation with those two girls.  Their mother was the root of all the evil in this family, and she showed so much favoritism toward the girls that the boys were blatantly aware they were unloved and unwanted.  The girls took pleasure in this lopsided arrangement and never missed an opportunity to rub it in.  Bud removed himself from the situation at his first opportunity, and so most our life together has been untouched by the machinations of the Masek women.

The person who died was the husband of Bud's sister, Debbie.  By my estimation, he had to have been quite young; certainly no older than 50, if even that old.  We have not been told what caused his death and it is not likely we will receive any further information.  We knew Robert Fitzgerald.  We actually attended their wedding, though I no longer remember why.  I'm sure it had something to do with irritating their mother, but I honestly don't remember because it was of so little importance.  We did not associate with Robert and Debbie.  We did not attend family functions with Robert and Debbie.  For the most part we were ignored by Robert and Debbie except when their daughters graduated from high school and we were sent announcements, I suppose in the hope we would feel obligated to send a card with money or a gift.  Fat chance!  I don't blame their daughters, but considering who the parents were, it is hard for me to feel any remorse for ignoring them.  Once several years ago Robert wrote a long letter in which he ripped Mike and Andee and Bud and me up one side and down the other because of the way we treated Bud's parents and his sisters.  I responded to him, and it was definitely not a friendly reply.  I'd have to say that scathing letter was undoubtedly the most communication I had with Robert over his lifetime.

So, I don't feel anything about his passing.  But, I keep thinking I should.  I am sorry for his daughters who have lost their father.  I know that is painful.  I really don't feel sorry for Debbie.  It would just about kill me to lose Bud, but somehow I can't see Debbie being too deeply hurt by the passing of her spouse.  I just keep thinking how sad it is that I don't feel sad.