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Hand-Me-Down Funeral
From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Grieving and Recovery
By Pat Snyder
We do not remember days; we remember moments.
~Cesare Pavese, The Burning Brand
My last argument with Daddy was the one about his funeral. He didn’t want one. “What’s the point of a funeral?” he wanted to know. “It’s a big waste of money. When the time comes, here’s what you do.”
He pulled out a plain white sheet of paper with instructions. Neatly typed, of course: “Cremation, minimum container, no memorial service.” He’d drawn it up himself.
Tanned, seemingly healthy, he looked like he should be out on the golf course, not at the breakfast table making funeral pronouncements to my mom and me. But he started out quiet that day, more subdued than usual. Facing heart surgery in a month and a detail man, he was going to leave nothing to chance.
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