I went to a memorial service tonight. It wasn't a funeral by any means, really. No sad hymns. Not much tissue although I cried and snotted all over my sweater. There was bluegrass music and smiles and laughter. It was what a gathering to honor someone's life should be.
When I try to bring these things up with Better Half, he informs me I'm morbid and he just doesn't want to talk about it. I have enough time to hit the high points, but then he moves on to something else. So, I'm gonna let you know what ya'll need to do...just so no one screws it up. (This is assuming I don't live to be the last of my friends and family...if that happens, I'm gonna be pissed. I don't wanna be first, but I don't wanna be last, either. I'll be happy with somewhere in the middle, thank you.)
First, should Jeffers Mortuary still be going strong, I'd like to go there. Richard had the place spruced up and it looks nice. The building is all old and full of character, but not musty and yucky. Cremation wouldn't be bad, but I'm not sure what would be done with my ashes. If they can be spread into the ocean, that would be great...Might be a law against that, though. I'll think on that...If not, I want a pretty silver casket. Brown just isn't my color.
Ya'll are going to sing "Amazing Grace" because that song makes me think of my nana and always makes me cry happy tears. Then everybody needs to share a little. You don't have to talk about me. Talk to each other. Tell each other how good it is to see each other and how you all wish it was under better circumstances. Do me a favor, see each other more often under better circumstances. Don't lose touch, okay?
When everybody has had enough time, sing me "Brokedown Palace." Make sure you print copies of the lyrics so everybody participates. Ya'll gotta sing me out, okay? As you're leaving, "Shady Grove" would be nice, too.
When ya get done singing and chatting, go somewhere and have a drink. Here's the drill: Everybody orders a shot. Get juice if you don't drink. I don't really care. Get one empty shot glass for me. When the shots are done, flip my shot glass upside down. That's how we toasted my grandpa. Don't send flowers or anything. Give money to Shriners or something near to your heart.
So, that's all. Just have a good time. It doesn't matter if we're all old...like our 70s or something. Bring your ass in on your walker or whatever and celebrate. Hug somebody you haven't seen in a while. Tell an embarrassing story about me. Talk about how crabby I was. It's all good. Just don't be sad...never sad. Eat some Wanda's Stripper Dip and have a good time. That's how I want to go out, okay?
P.S. You don't have to wait until I'm dead to start visiting with each other. Matter of fact, this weekend you should call someone you haven't talked to in a while and catch up. We both know you have 10 minutes you waste doing some other mindless crap. Go make it count. Much love to you peeps. RIP, Phat Papaw. I'm better for having known you.