being a mom
At My Funeral, I Want To Be Posed As I Lived: With No Bra On
Nobody enjoys funerals â€“ they’re sad, awkward, and full of cry. The only way they could be worse is if you sat down at the table and tried to start a conversation with someone who you soon discovered was your late grandmother’s corpse. Because Grandma is in the house and she’s dressed to party. And rot. But mostly party.
Horrifyingly enough, bringing the body of the dearly departed to their funeral and posing them in some sort of life-like death diorama is becoming a trend, in particular among the Puerto Rican and New Orleans communities. This has been referred to by ABC News as â€œextreme embalming,â€ because of course it has (Iâ€™m taking bets right now in when the Extreme Embalming reality show makes itâ€™s debut).
So put on your thinking caps and gets those inheritance checks ready, because for the cost of not much more than your average funeral, you can prop Grandpa up behind the wheel of his beloved Cadillac with a cigarette in one hand and all of your nightmares gently cupped in the other.
Or you can have your mom propped up at her kitchen table with her arms crossed, silently judging you into eternity. Meanwhile, you can get drunk and get a few things off your chest: â€œWhy don’t you understand that I’ll never be a gymnast?! WHY?!â€ You can work out a lot of stuff with these set ups.
Well, I am nothing if not someone who enjoys a creepy trend. Therefore, I have come up with a few appropriate options for my children when they are deciding how to pose me after I kick the bucket.
Lying in bed, with a pillow over my face.
â€œOh my gosh,â€ visitors will say, â€œWas she murdered?â€
â€œNo,â€ my children will answer. â€œShe started screaming into a pillow…and she just couldn’t stop.â€
My funeral will be held at a local playground.
You will find my corpse sitting on a bench â€“ sunglasses on, head down, looking at my iPhone.
â€œShe was so attentive. She always liked my Facebook statuses after â€˜just nowâ€™ but before â€˜1 min ago.â€™â€
Have my kids build a couch fort, and put me inside.
I’m never going to have a couch I can actually sit on again anyway.
â€œWe thought of forts as pirate ships, alien planets, and obstacle courses, but never as a funeral pyre. What a creative mind!â€
Stand me up in my living room, holding out my iPad.
There will be a CD of Benedictine monks chanting in the background, and a spotlight positioned so that I appear to have a halo.
â€œIt was when she was at her most desperate that she was also her most giving.â€