Thursday, September 3, 2009

In which Shana tries to not throw a pity party

Honestly, I swear, that is NOT the intent of this post. Whether or not I stay on point is another matter altogether, but I will try.

Oh and... this one promises to be dark, morbid, and perhaps not for everyone to read. Those who find talk of death not fit for their tastes, I recommend turning back now.

I think about death a lot. I know, kind of morbid, but I do. Not in the brooding faux goff style, but I think about how I'm going to die, and my 'funeral' and burial and such. I think it's simply because I always had it in my head that I was not going to grow old.

I honestly can't recall a time in my life where I thought I was going to grow old and die of natural causes. I really can't.

This might because I'm a sick little girl, or it could have something to do with my mother. She always had it in her head that she was going to die before she was 40. For her, it was death by gunshot. She claims that there were times that she swore she could hear the gun(wo)man's footsteps behind her and she'd brace herself for the shot.

For me, it's never been that specific.

There are times when we're in the car and I'll feel us veer into oncoming traffic, even though we haven't. Or I'll become convinced that somehow the wheel is going to fall off and we're going to skid and flip. Other times I can feel the car being t-boned. All these times I feel sheer panic, yet acceptance of what is going to come.

Yet it never comes.

When we're not in the car, It's cancer, or some other ailment that I think will get me. Still not sure what it is, but I'm certain it's going to happen.

I could be wrong, but this is one of those things that only time can tell, right?

And for note, I'm not saying that I WANT to die. I'm just saying that I don't think I'm going to be old enough to go grey. Totally different things.

So because I'm so morbidly convinced I'm going to die fairly young, I talk to the hubby about funeral arrangements, or the lack thereof that I want.

Simply put, I don't want a funeral. I don't want a burial. I don't want any pomp and circumstance involved with my death. It doesn't much make sense to me. So much money gets spent.

This being said, I understand that funerals are for those who are left behind. A wake is totally acceptable. I'm down with the idea of a wake. Think along the lines of an Irish funeral. Lots of booze, and stories.

Hint... here's where the pity party might come into play. I'll do my best to not go there... but just a warning, I may stray into cry baby territory. Okay... I tried writing this a couple of times, but each time I tried, it came out whinier than the last, so I give up. Suffice it to say I'm not up for a pity party today.

I've consented to a headstone... even though it seems senseless to me. All these graveyards... it's so much land that we really can't do anything with. I just don't want to be a part of the senseless waste of land. I'd rather just have my ashes either converted into a diamond and/or scattered wherever. Not really picky on that point. But the hubby said he'd like a place for a memorial of me, so I've agreed to some kind of marker.

So yea, there's me and my stupidly morbid post. And I'm quite happy that I kept the crybaby crap out of it.

4 comments:

Maddie said...

i don`t know about you but i have always wanted to go out like ophelia floating in the water with flowers and leaves around me or flying from the highest building...last week i told my mom not to cook on my funeral if they want food they should get it. idk why i said that but i meant it maybe its because i`m turning 19 tomorrow i`m freaked cuz i`m leaving my teens maybe.... take care shana

Shana-Marie said...

I've never really thought about how I want to die... I just have theimpending feeling that it's going to happen. It's very awkward and strange!

Nineteen, eh? You've still got another year of teenagehood left. I do get where you're coming from though. It's a coming of age, and it's scary.

You take care too, and if you ever want to talk, I'm on facebook and msn (tryphyna at hotmail dot com

Maddie said...

thx i guess slightly morbid people should stick together one way or another *hugs*

eva said...

Whenever I feel like things are going my way, to the point of being really good/too good, I get scared that it means that I'm going to die any moment in a freak accident. As if I've achieved the stuff I was supposed to, and experienced the stuff I was meant to, and now I'm ready to die.

The diamond idea is fantastic, I would have loved to keep my mother as a diamond when she died. I would have been scared of losing it though :s

Oh, and you're right about how to have a wake, the only right way to do it must be with tons of booze.