My motto is always be prepared.
At least when it comes to things involving anesthesia and the potential (I stress only potential) of meeting ones maker.
As such, I have decided I must relay to all of you exactly how to handle my demise. (I am so not a control freak :0)
First off, believe me when I say I am not planning on checking out of this earthly plain anytime soon. But then again, we all know how these things just aren't quite up to us. So rest assured that I am not afraid of the great beyond. While I may qualify as a heathen in many views, I am confident that the higher powers are benevolent and caring. I have no fear (other than your basic mild fear of the unknown) about my soul.
Secondly, I love life and life has loved me. I have made wonderful friends, married a tender and kind man, and given birth to the most beautiful children on earth. I wouldn't change anything (and I mean ANYTHING). I wouldn't be happy and where I am if life hadn't thrown me a curveball now and again. So if you ever felt I was angry with you or that I hadn't formally forgiven you of something be at peace that I have.
In that vein, I would like to know that those I have offended have forgiven me. I extend my apologies to those who have been on the wrong end of my bad moods and ill tempers.
As far as my earthly remains, I would expect my usable parts to be distributed to people who could use them. Whatever is left over, just cremate and spread. Please, oh please, don't let Ted stick me on the mantel. He already vetoed my wish to be taxidermied with hinged knees and a bobble head, so I could rock on the porch and wave to passersby. The nerve.
He is only allowed to have a memorial service if it is to save his sanity. But, to help ease him through the stages of grief, the only songs I wish to have played are "I want a hippopotamus for Christmas" by Gayla Peavey and "You Lie and Yo' Breath Stank" by the Infectious Grooves. No mournful hymns and no sad ballads. If you must cry, cry with laughter at memories of my goofy life. PLEASE. I BEG YOU.
Ted will have plenty of memories of me. He and Cory will be able to picture me in their mind years from now if necessary, but the little ones will need to see my face. Show them. Help all three of my babies remember my laugh and not my bark. Help them remember how much I loved them, instead of how often I was angry. But if you see them doing stuff I wouldn't have let them do, jerk a knot in their tail.
Now, if I am able, I will try to communicate from the beyond.
You will recognize the following as signs of such:
1. Cans of Campbells soup appearing in your pillowcase
2. Being goosed by unseen hands
3. Your small children telling you "That lady says I am so cute she wants to eat me!" when no one is around.
4. Getting annoying, little known songs stuck in your head for days!
5. All of your chocolate disappears under mysterious circumstances.
So, now you all know how things should proceed, IF I should go. But I wouldn't count on it happening anytime to soon. I kinda like hanging around here and getting my feathers ruffled by each and every one of you. Besides, I have years of aggravating left in me to get out.
LOVE
Heather
At least when it comes to things involving anesthesia and the potential (I stress only potential) of meeting ones maker.
As such, I have decided I must relay to all of you exactly how to handle my demise. (I am so not a control freak :0)
First off, believe me when I say I am not planning on checking out of this earthly plain anytime soon. But then again, we all know how these things just aren't quite up to us. So rest assured that I am not afraid of the great beyond. While I may qualify as a heathen in many views, I am confident that the higher powers are benevolent and caring. I have no fear (other than your basic mild fear of the unknown) about my soul.
Secondly, I love life and life has loved me. I have made wonderful friends, married a tender and kind man, and given birth to the most beautiful children on earth. I wouldn't change anything (and I mean ANYTHING). I wouldn't be happy and where I am if life hadn't thrown me a curveball now and again. So if you ever felt I was angry with you or that I hadn't formally forgiven you of something be at peace that I have.
In that vein, I would like to know that those I have offended have forgiven me. I extend my apologies to those who have been on the wrong end of my bad moods and ill tempers.
As far as my earthly remains, I would expect my usable parts to be distributed to people who could use them. Whatever is left over, just cremate and spread. Please, oh please, don't let Ted stick me on the mantel. He already vetoed my wish to be taxidermied with hinged knees and a bobble head, so I could rock on the porch and wave to passersby. The nerve.
He is only allowed to have a memorial service if it is to save his sanity. But, to help ease him through the stages of grief, the only songs I wish to have played are "I want a hippopotamus for Christmas" by Gayla Peavey and "You Lie and Yo' Breath Stank" by the Infectious Grooves. No mournful hymns and no sad ballads. If you must cry, cry with laughter at memories of my goofy life. PLEASE. I BEG YOU.
Ted will have plenty of memories of me. He and Cory will be able to picture me in their mind years from now if necessary, but the little ones will need to see my face. Show them. Help all three of my babies remember my laugh and not my bark. Help them remember how much I loved them, instead of how often I was angry. But if you see them doing stuff I wouldn't have let them do, jerk a knot in their tail.
Now, if I am able, I will try to communicate from the beyond.
You will recognize the following as signs of such:
1. Cans of Campbells soup appearing in your pillowcase
2. Being goosed by unseen hands
3. Your small children telling you "That lady says I am so cute she wants to eat me!" when no one is around.
4. Getting annoying, little known songs stuck in your head for days!
5. All of your chocolate disappears under mysterious circumstances.
So, now you all know how things should proceed, IF I should go. But I wouldn't count on it happening anytime to soon. I kinda like hanging around here and getting my feathers ruffled by each and every one of you. Besides, I have years of aggravating left in me to get out.
LOVE
Heather
4 comments:
I think you need to take some sleeping pills and get some more sleep LOL!!! Everything is going to be ok:)
I will come kick your butt in the afterlife if you expire. So plan on making it through surgery, woman!
I am so completely and thoroughly NOT planning to expire. Only to be prepared. C'mon people :0)! I have to be assured the torment I dish out while here will continue when I am gone!!
Guess I came in in the middle of an epic. Email me when you get a chance.
-RF
Post a Comment