Bonzer Words!: The Urn
Sandi Maroney tells of a man who planned his funeral.
Sandi writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au
He began searching on the Internet to find out about arrangements for cremation. He meticulously contacted funeral homes, crematoriums, and the cemetery. Every detail was considered, recorded and costs were compared. He checked with a military representative to find out about military honors. He had said for years that he really didn't want a fuss when he died, but conceded to tradition by planning for some conventional details. 'Funerals are for the living,' he would always say.
He remembered with sad sarcasm his grandfather's death, and the typical Irish wake that followed. Food, drink, even laughter and music are common during the twenty-four hours that the body of the deceased is waked.
'The women were in the kitchen crying and talking about what a great guy he was, and the men were in the front room drinking, while remembering what an old SOB he was,' he had said disdainfully. He believed that no-one was really sorry to see the old man go; their sorrow was certainly tainted with relief because his grandfather had been a talented man who wasted his life with drugs and alcohol. He had already lived to be older than his grandfather, and he was grateful that he had not fallen victim to the addictions he feared were genetically passed down to him. For his own version of an Irish wake, he instructed his wife to arrange to buy the bar—inviting people who would miss him to have a drink while remembering him.
'I have no regrets,' he said.
He made plans to prepare a folder containing all relevant documents so that when he died everything would be pre-paid, all decisions already made. The surprised lady at the crematorium told him he had an extraordinary attitude about making all the arrangements for his own death. He frequently said that he didn't need an expensive funeral, and intended for his arrangements to preclude a funeral director taking advantage of his family during a vulnerable time. He told his son-in-law what he was doing and asked him to oversee the arrangements when the time came. His son-in-law said, 'Did you choose me because you think I'll be the only one who won't be upset?'
Then he began to select the urn.
He spent several days on the internet looking at them. When he had seen several that he liked, he printed them. He handed the pictures of the urns to his wife, asking her to choose the one she liked best for him.
She understood his need to plan. They had already purchased side-by-side niches at the cemetery, next to the niche that held the remains of her father. Buying the niches seemed to her to be a practical way to be prepared for the inevitable. The niche wall was on a hill overlooking the lake, and they laughingly referred to them as their condos on the lake. It was important that she unmistakably understand what his last wishes would be. She knew that. She clearly remembered the wrenching decision made by Terri Schivo's husband as played out on all the media last year. She remembered the awful sadness etched into the face of Terri's mother, and the angry crowds taking sides during such a personal tragedy where there could be no winners.
But now he had asked her to help select the urn. This seemed too . . .
Too what? Surely, she thought, this is tempting fate. He is healthy. We don't have to do this now, she thought. 'We have many, many years before we have to think about dying,' she thought. Superstition was creeping in. She took the pictures of the urns obediently. But she really didn't want to make a selection. The urn seemed symbolic; it might bring death too close. That was it. The pictures of the urns were like omens bringing the dreaded thoughts too close, somehow shortening the time they had left together. Surely the planning they had already done was sufficient. She didn't want to face losing him yet. It was now not just a theoretical discussion for a time in the distant future.
She looked at the pictures of the urns with tears in her eyes, slowly overcoming her fear of participating in this ritual. As she fought back the superstitions, she realized that he did this because of his unwavering love for her and their children, and his careful planning was a future gift of his love.
© Sandi Maroney
