It struck me the other day that these words usually start off two very important ceremonies in life - maybe the two most important ones - weddings and funerals.
So much planning goes into the first one - guest lists, color themes, flowers, venue, clothes - and on and on.
But the second one usually happens unexpectedly and in a rush. Often the details are things we have seen others do. It's not usual that the major participant - the deceased - gets any input into the proceedings.
It happens. But in my experience it's not the norm. We hate to think about these things. It's almost a superstition. If we talk about it, we will cause it to happen. On those occasions when pre-planning takes place, it makes it so much easier for the ones left behind.
I didn't have that luxury. John died suddenly and without warning. We had not discussed much about ceremony beyond cremation and closed casket. So I did the best I could and I think the funeral I arranged was something John would have liked.
But then it came time to decide what to do with his ashes. We had never discussed that. Ever.
So I decided not to decide beyond getting a very nice urn.
But someday we need to be placed somewhere.
I too will be cremated and I want our ashes to be together.
But where I have no clue.
So a few years ago I decided pre-planning [in my case anyway] was in order.
I contacted a church a few towns over that had a columbarium [a room or building with niches for funeral urns to be stored - a new word for me], made an appointment to speak with a representative, and off I went.
It was an experience, to say the least. I don't know if it was typical but it was definitely different.
To start with, I was given a list of available spaces to choose from, each having a certain price allotted to them depending on location - higher on the wall was more expensive than lower, glass front cost more than closed, and so forth. I was having trouble maintaining my composure. I was starting to hear John laugh.
Off we went. The lobby of the columbarium building had piped in music and a "visiting" room. John was now laughing out loud. My guide then proceeded to show me where various people she thought I might know [local well known families] were going to be laid to rest as well as the space she and her friends had already purchased. It begged the question why I would have to know this. Surely we were not going to all party after lights out.
But I smiled and nodded my way through the walk-through.
Finally we went back to her office and she presented me with a price sheet and finance plan, expecting me to make a choice, implying if I waited too long, the choice spots would be gone. I felt like I was in a time-share presentation..
I excused myself to go to the ladies room. While in there I could swear I heard John yelling "Get out!" in between absolute belly laughs.
I went back in, told the nice lady I needed time to think and quickly left.
She called a week later and I let her go to voice mail.
John is still in his urn and I still have no pre-plans made.
Every time I decide it's time to try again, John just keeps laughing.
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