My Service

I have been to many funerals and memorial services in my life, a normality for those my age. And one thing I realized when I was planning my parent’s funerals is that the service is for those of us who are left, not the person who has died. And think about – the oerson is gone and not of this earth, so the service has no benefit for them. We do it for us – as a way to say goodbye, have closure, cry, and mark the occocasion of their passing, because it is a part of our lives.

So with that in mind, when it is my time…I don’t want a service, I want a party. If the service is for those who are left, not me, well, then let’s truly make it a celebration.

First there should be an open bar, and plenty of food. And chocolate. And music. Get up and do the Electric Slide as I slide on into the afterlife. What better way to do that than to dance to a song about a vibrator? And I want the ushers to be dressed in Grim Reaper costumes, and then stand quietly at the back of the room, maybe occasionally tapping people on the shoulder during the service, just for kicks. There better be some shenanigan’s or I will be extremely disappointed. Maybe get an angel to jump out of a cake or something. That would be fun.

And forget crying, get up and tell stories about how clumsy I am…and there are Plenty of those…like the time I slid down the stairs at a job only be met by my boss at the bottom…when I tripped again and spilled coffee on him. Or when I dropped the pre-employment drug test cup full of pee when I handed it off to the nurse…and she and I both looked down at the floor in horror and disgust. Or how about the time I fell into a mud puddle after nearly getting run over by the Mobile Library while walking home with my best friend from junior high school? Or my flatulence during a very quiet Midnight Mass (Christmas Eve) service (never eat spicy tacos before church)? Oh the list could go on and on.

The service could last for days on that alone.

I want people laughing so hard they cry, because they are having such a great time at my “Party.” Because no doubt if anyone can trip and fall, grabbing St. Peter’s halo and breaking it on the way down, it’s me. And if we do get Angels’ wings…can you imagine how many people I will take out with those? I can barely keep from hitting people with my purse in a crowded store…much less some massive pair of wings that I have to keep track of. That is a lot of extra space for a Pinktank in a china shop. Maybe it is good that Heaven has lots of clouds….clouds are soft and don’t hurt when you fall, trip, stumble or spill into them. And just know I am haunting everyone. I mean everyone. Maybe even you.

Indeed, I want there to be laughter and people to have such a good time that I need to reserve a hotel and shuttle to and for so people don’t drive. I want it to be legendary party. People should be exhausted, drunk, full of delicious food and chocolate dripped on there shirts and tear stained cheeks from laughing so hard.

And make my obituary funny too. Talk not about my accomplishments, but about my embarrassing moments, as there are much more of them anyway. Like when I saw my super hot neighbor at the store…when I had granny panties and a lip gloss in my shopping cart. Or when I tripped into a Christmas tree at a friends house and got tangled up in the lights, looking like a brightly colored dancing tree because I couldn’t get out of the it. Make fun of me hard. Laugh at me hard. If I’m haunting everyone anyway, you guys might as well earn it. But most of all, have fun.

Life is short. Celebrate it while you are here, and make sure your friends carry on the celebration after you are gone. After all, what are friends for?