"In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes."
Today being April 15 we know taxes are certain. We bitch about this inevitable truth. Then there's death. We all know our number will eventually come a calling, but it's not exactly an easy topic to raise or discuss, especially with loved ones. I'm thankful to have had this dialogue with my parents. I consider myself lucky that both of my parents are still alive and quite active in their late seventies.
Long before discussing death with my parents I've always known when the question of burial or cremation has been posed, the answer is cremation all the way. My family is fully aware of my simple wish. To keep a portion of my remains in Colorado and scatter the rest of my remains over the place where I share the fondest of memories--a tiny cove in Laguna Beach.
I admit I've never been able to adequately articulate my reasons. My mother recently shared a poem she penned about her own wishes, which I couldn't have expressed any better.
This I am certain of.
Cremation
At two thousand degrees the End quickly nears.
In a room full of flames, the flesh flows like tears.
Liquid and smoke emerge from the sludge,
Where is this person? One simply can't judge.
Impurities of body no longer in tact,
A vanishing mass, an impossible fact.
Hours later, disin te gra tion complete,
Dust and ashes in piles so neat.
Half will remain at a well-chosen spot
With corpses as neighbors whose bodies are rot.
The remainder will scatter to Ediza on high,
The Eastern Sierras she has chosen to lie.
--Phyllis Bricker
