Picture Me Laughing...

My mom re-did my aunt's makeup today at the mortuary.  She went to view the body and decided that her sister did not look look quite like herself as she lay sleeping in eternal peace.  I'm not sure that I could do that, even for my sister. The whole conversation made me think about death and funerals and those left behind... I don't want to lie in a casket waiting for my friends and family to file past to pay their respects.  I don't want the people who share my day-to-day existence to try to figure out if my hair should be down, curled, pulled back, or styled in an updo of some sort to make me look like me.  I wear little makeup, so in death, I definitely wouldn't want it piled on to give me a healthy glow.  I would be dead afterall... There would be no need to make it appear otherwise.

I am saved. When I die, I will be in the presence of my Lord; I will no longer be here. I want my body to be cremated and to have my ashes scattered at the beach. This way, if you feel an overwhelming need to commune with me, to discuss the great mysteries of life with me, you can head to the beach. The ocean breezes will stroke your cheek; the sun will warm your skin. The sand will shift beneath your feet to remind you that life always changes and no terrible thing lasts forever.  Life always gets better. I do not want the people I love to worry over details of caskets and tombstones.  I want them to go live!

I plan to live to at least 100, so there's no need to plan anything for a long time hopefully.  When it is my time to be called home, picture me laughing.  I love to laugh.  Close your eyes and hear my laughter... Isn't that so much better than worrying about whether or not my hair and makeup looks life-like?

How do you want to be remembered?