When I die -- and I'm not planning on it since I'm real busy right now -- I want a woman in charge of the funeral.
Al Neuharth and Mildred Lawrence have made me think about our traditions of burying the dead. And I found myself asking: why?
Al is the founder of USA Today and wrote about funerals in his column this week. Mildred is a founder of the Town and Country Garden Club in Laurel, and she was in her own funeral recently.
So, in thinking about the social event that finishes out my life, I have strong feelings. Maybe everybody does.
First of all, I don't expect it to be a party. Grief is cleansing and healing. Remembering can be inspiring and fulfilling. I don't want to shortchange my funeral guests.
When I go to a funeral, I want to grieve. Especially when I truly loved the aunt or grandmother or -- God forbid -- teenager in the casket.
A funeral is one of the few times we allow ourselves to hurt deeply, hold one another's hands, feel the jagged scraping in our souls.
So please, I say to my mistress of ceremonies: let them cry.
Second, I don't want people to be bored and uncomfortable. So totally ditch the funeral parlor and the long sermon. Long lines, guest books with attached pens, tiny rooms crammed with flowers. Platitudes ("she's in a better place") and euphemisms ("passed away"). Bleck!
It can be at my house -- or if I live in one of those assisted living places -- just do it at a barn or someplace relaxed.
No preaching. Just stories and prayers and praise songs.
My guests don't have to dress up either. They can if they want to. They can wear a hand-painted silk top in fuschia and golds with their straight-legged jeans for all I care. I might wear that myself.
I hope my friends will speak through their tears about the richness of life and my efforts to get it right. I hope they will share in my passions and make fun of my faults. I pray that, looking back over my life, it won't be about collecting seashells or paintings or furniture or fashion, but about walking alongside people and truly living with them.
I love how Mildred insisted on a cocktail party at the Country Club after her memorial service. So maybe we'll finish up with a great meal and a laid-back band.
The deceased is always the star of the show, so she gets her name in the paper. She gets to pick how things are done -- just like oh-so-many years ago at the wedding.
Too bad she won't be there to dance.
Potential emcees for the final social event
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