Where will my pants go when I die?

There was a death in my family this week. We weren't close, so I found myself sad for his family but not particularly sad for myself. I tried to feel sad out of obligation, but it just didn't work out, and that's that. But... it did get me thinking about what I want at my own funeral extravaganza (because I'm pretty sure I'll still be a fan of a good party when I'm dead), so I've decided to tell everyone what I want now. That way if anyone tries to mess it up, everyone else will know, and will therefore just ignore them. (I am not sure who these mystery funeral planners will be, but one must be prepared for every eventuality.)

The list goes as follows:

1. All the women must wear hats. Good, big hats. I want it to look like that scene in My Fair Lady when Eliza Dolittle (or Doolittle or Dulittle) goes to the races with Henry Higgins and ends up embarassing herself with her big mouth (clearly this is my kind of girl). Let it be known - no hat, no death party. Men, the jury's still out on whether or not you get to wear a hat - but I'd better not see any baseball caps (not even the Red Sox.)

2. Glitter. I want to be covered head to toe in lovely, finely ground, clearish-whiteish glitter. I absolutely believe in the Resurrection and I want to come forth luminous and looking well-rested. I want all those other recently-dead folks around me to wonder how I kept so well, and I also do not want to go to Judgement with dull skin. You might think that I won't care about this when I am actually at Judgement, but, trust me - I will. Remember, you only have one chance to make a first impression and I want that impression to be "Wow - she's really shiny. She must have been good".

3. (I stole this one from my sister Nika - If I die first, too bad for you, Nika!) I want a plain white coffin that everyone in attendance can sign with those smelly markers and (you guessed it) glitter pens. I want their "entries" to resemble what you would read in your high school yearbook. Things like: "Don't ever change", "Keep in touch", "Stay sweet", and "In case you haven't noticed, I'm in love with you and have been since the first time I saw you". (Someone actually did write that in my yearbook in 8th grade - despite my unfortunate eyebrows and fashion choices. It still makes me smile and I bet it'll make me smile when I'm dead, too. I'm not saying who he was, so don't ask.) Anyway, I want that baby covered with love graffiti. (By the way, I liked this idea so much it actually trumped my desire to be put in a boat, pushed into the Pacific Ocean and lit by a flaming arrow like my Viking ancestors were. So there you go.)

4. Catered food for all - mostly desserts. I want to send the message that sometimes it's okay to drown your sorrows in chocolate, caramel and cream in varying stages of whippyness.

5. Someone must do my roots after I die. This way I'll have no gray. Again, a girl needs to look her best on these big occasions. This also goes for any essential hair removal. If I am buried with a mustache, someone is signing up for some serious poltergeists.

6. Everyone must sing all 7 verses of "How Firm a Foundation". My mom used to call on me at every family home evening to pick the hymn, and this is the one I picked every week for like 6 years. It was one of those twisted kinds of family traditions that everyone both hated and loved at the same time.

7. Bag pipes. I'm not Scottish, but I love these things. They are like the loud and bossy mom of the instrument world, that, even if you don't like how they sound, you have to listen because they drown out everything around them. Plus, they sound a little haunting, and since I'll be a ghost, it seems appropriate.

8. No male pallbearers. With few exceptions, women have born me up in life and they can bear me up in death. I don't care if it takes 30 of them to carry me - it'd better be "sisters on parade".

9. (This should definitely have been #1) If my husband and I both "go" at the same time, my sister Keely gets our kids. She is the best mom I have ever seen and if my kids had any luck at all, I'd die now so that they could be raised by her instead of me. Less therapy, more fun.

10. I want my headstone to say something really funny. None of this sappy quotes business - when people are looking through the cemetery and being all sad and weepy, I want them to have a reason to laugh loud all the way from their insides. I'm taking suggestions if anyone has one - otherwise I may go with a knock-knock joke.

These are important decisions and must be made with care.  So people - follow my lead. Plan now... or be remembered for a really lame final party later.