More Tality

I've been thinking more and more about my own mortality recently, but I don't really know why. Nowadays, car accidents involving fatalities affect me more that they ever used to; I think perhaps because I was so used to reading about them that they had no real meaning for me.

Me? I've been remarkably lucky. My brother died of muscular dystrophy almost exactly ten years ago, but it wasn't like we didn't see it coming. My father died of . . . what? We still don't know, about two years ago. But even that wasn't in a sudden horrific crash or a horribly painful terminal disease. My brother died by inches, heavily sedated when he wanted to be, and I know he wasn't in any particular pain. If I had to go, I'd choose to go like either of them.

But the weird thing is, I don't want to be what they are NOW. They were both cremated without ceremony and now rest in urns in my mother's living room, along with the ashes of a beloved dog and maybe even a cat.

If they were here now, make no mistake, they would think that quite hilarious -- my dad even wanted to have a Boston Red Sox cap on top of his urn, and my mother was surprised that I was the only one who seemed to ever have heard him say it -- but I'm different.

I don't want to be ashes. Not only do I not want to be ashes, but I want to know exactly where I am to rest for all eternity. I want not only to know where I'll be buried, whole, so the grass can grow through me and the worms munch on my brain, but I want to be able to VISIT my grave BEFORE I die. I want to go there and spend time there occasionally, so, presumably on the moment of my death I'll be able to say, "Oh yeah -- I know where I'm going now."

I know it's kind of macabre, but not really. I want to be under a shady tree, under grass, with the seasons coming and going and birds singing as I decay, knowing that every day the sun will rise and the sun will set on my grave.

I want to go to my future grave, sit for a while, maybe play guitar and have a few drinks, and look around at where I'll be.

Ideally, my headstone would have a prerecorded video of me in my prime, available for anyone to watch at the push of a button, with me messing around and being my usual self, so they can see who I really was, "look" six feet under and see me as I am, not alive, and drink a beer while listening to my tired jokes.

I think that if I could think that in my last moments, I'd be cheered up, maybe actually look forward to it.

Of course, that is all contingent upon the supposition that there is no Hell.