CAN'T AFFORD TO DIE

I'm really frustrated, I'm over eighty now, and simply can't afford to die ... it's too expensive!

Some time ago my sister died and I came face to face with the American death business. There's a politically correct way to die and be buried, and of course we all want to die and finish in the correct way. However, rather than a large lavish funeral with all of today's bells and whistles, we wanted to have a small, quiet, inexpensive funeral ... not necessarily a do-it-yourself, backyard thing, but the next step up. That's when I found that an “inexpensive funeral” was an oxymoron.

There is a proper way to die and it must be followed down to the very last dollar. First, of course, there is to be a certificate from the bureaucracy, that assures you, your friends and the State that you are indeed dead, or more politically correct, deceased. The next big step, and major decision ... cremation or burial? Cremation is a more inexpensive option, with some objecting to the heat. Burial, it seems, is the culturally correct way to go.

My sister wanted to be buried and so it was. First to the cemetery to choose a lovely quiet plot, preferably near a shade tree and with a nice view. (The nice funeral director pointed this out to us, especially the view.) He assured us that we got both at a very “reasonable” price. Next, was to choose a lovely, yet functional (and comfortable) casket. And, more importantly, one that would last. This took a lot of thought.

The funeral director was reluctant to let me try out a few of his caskets. (I'm one who likes to try, before I buy; if you know what I mean.) The dollars kept adding up. The big black hearse, and of course the police escort, the room rental, memory book full of names the deceased will never look at, even a cement slab that covers the casket in case of severe rain.

My sister didn't have to do the paperwork or pay the bills, that's the good thing about being the die'ee, you don't have to worry about that silly stuff and ... you get to attended your funeral in absentia.

Yep! I'm over eighty and holding off dying simply because it costs too much! Oh, for an old fashioned backyard funeral and celebration ... two pieces of wood and three nails, now that I can afford.