As I lay me down to rest

 

   Let's face it, we're all going to die some day. Who knows, it could be today. I'm fast approaching the age of seventy, and with all the pains that have become a part of my every day life, I'm constantly reminded that I'm not going to live forever, nor do I want to. I
haven't got the strength. My wife and I had long ago drawn up a will. We didn't want the state determining where our estate would go. We still need to sit down and come up with a list of existing bank accounts and where our 401K and IRA's are located, and I suppose I should commit to paper where I would like some of what I've treasured in this world to end up. I won't give my wooden fishing boat to either of the boys, I don't want to burden them with that. I do have quite a bit of commercial fishing gear though that they could keep or sell. Then there are the tools and books and other odds and ends. I've already told my granddaughter that she can have my stamp collection. I just hope she doesn't systematically start using the Forever stamps to mail in her bills. That might cause my spirit a good deal of anguish, should I be aware of it. The whole idea of dying is such a lot of work. There is so much preparation involved, it makes me tired. In an effort to spare our children the trouble of last rite preparations, my wife and I took the car out yesterday and explored the only two cemeteries in our area. She had in mind putting us in a columbarium after we were cremated. I voiced my desire to have at least half of my ashes spread down in Port Frederick where I've spent thousands of hours fishing. I suppose it's only fitting that the ancestors of the halibut, grey cod and salmon that I've taken from those waters should extract a little revenge by crapping on my remains. The other half can go in a mason jar as far as I'm concerned. What we discovered after our tour of the tombs and surrounding area, was that we really didn't like either of the cemeteries. Both were located off of busy streets, and while the second one was over-shadowed by some beautiful mountains, there weren't enough trees around to please me, and the graveyard was located in the next town over, which is full of environmentalists and liberals. I didn't want to spend eternity having arguments with a bunch of greenies. We finally decided that we would buy a big enough urn to hold both of us. Jan wouldn't mind having half of her ashes spread either in Key West or Charleston, both places we lived when I was in the navy, and she has pleasant memories of each. As mentioned, I'll be making up part of the ocean floor, so there will only be the equivalent of one rotund body to shove into the urn. If for some reason we found that there was excess ashes, I thought perhaps salt and pepper shakers could handle the overflow. I have seven children, but they are scattered about the country. It wouldn't make sense to send the urn around to each child for a season, assuming they would even want it in their homes, so I think perhaps each kid should have a salt and pepper set. We might even have our pictures imprinted on them. I could be salt and Jan could be pepper. Or vice versa. For holidays we could be brought out onto the table next to the turkey or ham and enjoy the festivities with the family. They'd just have to make sure that the holes were plugged so we didn't accidentally season the mashed potatoes or green bean casserole. I think it's a smashing idea. My daughter, Autumn, agrees. If we can just get the rest of the family to go along, it will be one less hassle to plan for.