Last week I joined the Neptune Society. I thought it was a swim club. When FedEx delivered a large box, I was hoping for scuba gear.
“You know what I got in the mail the other day?” I asked my friend Janice.
“No,” she answered. I could tell she was more excited than she should have been.
“A decorative urn,” I revealed.
Silence. “Why would you buy one of those?” she said, breaking the silence. “Who’s the lucky one who gets to keep you on the mantle?”
“I don’t really need an urn,” I admitted. I had already planned to keep my flour in it. “I want to be scattered a few places. You know the same in death as in life, a little here, and a little there. I was just thinking, the kids could put a little of me in their pockets each day and flick a little of me in some of my favorite places.”
No sooner than the words escaped my tongue, I’m wondering if that might make it a little difficult for God if He tries to put me back together in the distant future. Honest, there’s no thought of trying to get even for all the times I thought He might be absent when I was trying to keep it together during the living years. But then I remember hearing, “Nothing is impossible with God,” in Sunday School. Still I’ll make a treasure map to mark the spots for Him.
Actually, the urn kind of got me excited. I know in caskets, there’s not much room. But I was thinking, they might not notice a few of my favorite goodies in the kiln with me that I wouldn’t mind taking with me in my final blaze of glory.
I’ll bet I can stuff the pockets in my favorite white dress with the twirly skirt and the Society will never notice — the cheap Llardo imitations of a little boy and girl Cheezy bought for me when he was only ten, the stuffed black cat, half the face faded gray now, in a gingham dress that Coco gave me, and the lavender sprigs from the bushes in Montpellier, France, the GAP brought me back from her many months as a foreign exchange student. They still smell as sweet as the day she returned. Okay, so they might have to send me off in a tool belt so I can take my new favorite toy — the cordless drill from Hot Wheelz. I thought he’d never be able to top the mahogany clock, but alas, the drill.
I’ve got so many favorite things… Janice is right. I don’t have enough decades stacked up yet.
I sent the urn back today. I think maybe you can sometimes be too prepared.
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At least in an Urn no one will look down on you and say, “She did have a big nose didn’t she?”
All some might say, “she had a big ash.”