This afternoon we- the members of St. Andrews Runamuk- gathered around the ashes of a departed member of our congregation. Rita had been the organist of the congregation, member of the Eastern Star, IODE and assorted organizations, and at the time of her death, 100 years old.
We who survived gathered graveside to day good bye. It was a cool, breezy day, and the reception afterward, with its piping hot tea, sandwiches and sweets, was greatly appreciated.
This leads to reflection on how I would like to go...when I go. (Serious contemplation of death is not my favorite choice of meditation!)
I've thought that cremation might be the way to go. It lends such a wide scope for the imagination. Mix my ashes with cement, pour the resulting mixture into a tube at the corner of King and Queen, and become a pillar of the community. Pack the ashes into a potato gun and fire them into the air, 'cuz that would be me all over. Rig an air ram in the hole my urn will be lowered into, and at more appropriate moment- which would be in truth the worst possible moment- fire the whole works up and away.
Yes, I know this is utterly tasteless, and rest assured, even if I were able to arrange this, FCC would countermand immediately. Contemplation of one's mortality is always much easier when tempered by the ridiculous.
Later, Mushers!
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