Wednesday, March 08, 2006

How to remember me when I'm gone

In the wake of Major League Baseball and former Minnesota Twin Kirby Puckett's death, there has been alot of talk of 'celebrations of life'. It's a fancy phrase for funeral.

There has also been much speculation and talk in the sports world by athletes in regards to 'How Kirby Would Have Wanted It'. They, of course, are referring to continuing play of games. In short, I think many people feel the same way when looking forward and prognosticating about their own death.

Many wish that their survivors would carry on as usual with as little interruption as possible. These are the realists in the world. Those that realize that their lives are merely a blip in the overall scheme of things. People that realize they are one of billions living on a planet where the passing of one individual isn't going to be an earth-shattering event.

Some, however, feel differently.

When I go, and I can say with a bit of confidence that it will be long before retirement age, I want everyone and everything I was involved with to stop. No, not for an all-too-common moment of silence. I want it all to stop for a day, maybe even a week. Remember me. Celebrate my passing. Shed a tear or two if you want. Call it a bereavement vacation if you must but things should stop.

It's just the way I would have wanted it. I want staggering drunken rowdiness. It's how I am. I want people to take a step back and take a breather. My friends and family work far too hard to survive this impending tragedy without at least a week-long break. I want some sort of stone shrine built in my honor. Maybe a an enormous but still functioning soup kettle because I likes me some soup.

I want a buffet-style meal served in my passing. Someone should donate it so the personal financial burden is lessened. There shall be a varied selection of food served but it shall focus on pizza, mashed potatoes & gravy, tacos, chicken and a selection of potatoes prepared in a variety of ways with a huge selection of smoked BBQ meats.

There shall be a night during the week of grievance set aside for all of my surviving friends and family to simply sit around a back yard camp fire and enjoy life. Telling stories and giving each other a hard time until the sun comes up.

It's how I would have wanted it.

No comments: