I always was claustrophobic. That is why I chose this way of leaving the world. The thought of being buried deep under the earth in a locked box didn’t appeal to me, so I chose cremation. I’m not a big funeral lover either, and chose not to have one. I wanted to be remembered as my healthy self, cracking a joke, which I did not do well, by the way, or laughing. Comedians say that another comedian’s funeral hears the best jokes ever. I’m sure the deceased would enjoy that.
I chose this end. Straight from the morgue in a cardboard box to the crematorium. We had one locally when I was young. It was a joke for all of us, with a very creepy underbelly. It had a tower, not what you’re thinking, no smoke rising out of it, but a glass enclosed window structure at the peak. When the sun shone on the glass it turned the colors of flames. Naturally everyone assumed they were seeing actual fire. It would be curious to know exactly what they were trying to depict with that tinted glass.
Of course I’ll never know. I’ll never know exactly what caused me to be here in this urn either. It’s against the rules. Who knew there would be rules after you’re dead?
The Bag Lady 
I’m a strong believer in when we die our spirit and soul leaves our body which becomes the shell that housed us here on earth.
When I go to funerals my fathers included I never cry because I just thought he was not in that box that everyone was looking at, no he was flying free without pain above us looking down smiling.
I cried afterwards for years at the sadness of his passing but unfortunately it was his time to go and we can’t change that however unfair it seems at the time.
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