6′ under what?April 6th, 2007 @ 7:01 am
When I was a senior in high school, we studied a Death and Dying section in my AP Psych class. We learned about the 5 stages of grief and what they all mean. We learned about what happens to those left behind when someone dies.
My Psych class took a field trip and visited a funeral home. We saw the different caskets offered there and how much they cost (a lot, by the way). We saw tiny little caskets for babies; we saw small ones for young kids and the plain black ones I had seen at funerals for my older relatives. We saw pink ones and blue ones and even yellow ones.
We talked with the funeral director about the different packages they offer. Things like having the funeral at the funeral home or at your Church. We were told about embalming process and the preparing of the body. I won’t lie to you. It was creepy and maybe not so healthy for a bunch of high school kids to learn about. (Especially the part about seeing the baby caskets. I will never get over that.)
At the end of the chapter we were assigned to plan our own funeral based on the things we had learned. Our teacher wanted to know what casket we would for ourselves. She wanted to know where we wanted our funeral held and who we wanted to speak at our funeral. She even wanted to know what songs we wanted sung and what clothes we wanted to be buried in. And of course, where we wanted to be buried at.
Maybe it was just me, but I spent a lot of time thinking about this (again, probably not very healthy for a teenager). I don’t remember how I can to the conclusions that I came to, only that I felt strongly about them. I wrote my report and turned it in. I also made sure my Mom knew what my wishes were. You know, just in case.
I wanted the cheapest casket they could find. One with not a lot of ribbon and lace. I knew that much. I wanted my funeral held at my church and I wanted my family to speak on how fabulous of a daughter I was.
The easy part was the outfit I wanted to be buried in. I had a favorite tie dyed shirt that had been given to me by my uncle (seen here). I loved that shirt and wore it every chance I got. (Yes, I owned many tie dyed items. Even a dress. I swear.) I had a lovely pair of faded cut off shorts that I also wanted to wear. And my sandals. Of course my sandals.
I wanted to be buried in the cemetery that was next to our house. I wanted to be buried next to my Mom. (Who, hello, isn’t even dead. Thank goodness.) I remember my Mom telling me that I would want to be buried by my husband and family. I told her that she was my family. She was who I loved the most. My 17 year old heart/mind couldn’t comprehend loving someone more than my own mother.
The part of my funeral plans that I was most proud of was the musical number. Yes, there is a musical number at my funeral. The song of choice is, of course, You Are My Sunshine. I’m not really sure why I picked this song. It’s not like it’s a favorite of mine. I don’t even own a copy of it. I think I picked it because I wanted to be the type of person that people would think of their sunshine. (Dude, 17 Isabel thought a lot about herself, didn’t she?)
Through the next few years I would ask, nay, invite friends and family to participate in this musical number at my funeral. I would explain to them the reason why I had this thought out. I asked them to please remember that they had been invited and to come up at the appropriate time during my funeral.
I was completely serious about this. I only asked people who meant a lot to me.
Seriously.
I was a little freaky, apparently.
I’m sure my Mom has long forgotten these funeral requests. My tie dyed shirt and cut off shorts are long gone. The sandals were worn thin and disposed of. I no longer want to be buried in the cemetery I grew up by. I’m hoping The King and Babboo never die so I don’t have to worry about being buried next to them.
(Just typing this out makes me nervous.)
As for the musical number, well, I still want that. And if you’re in town for my funeral-you’re all invited to sing along.
Back in the Day · Me
Kathleen
said,
April 6, 2007 at 9:41 pm
You know, I honestly don’t think it’s that weird that you’ve thought this through. A little, I guess, considering how young you were at the time, but it is something all of our families will have to go through one day — so why not plan ahead?
It’s funny you posted the Six Feet Under picture. We watched this show on DVD all through last fall, and it is one of the most incredible shows ever. If you haven’t watched it, you must. It brought up all of these issues for us and we both now know what the other would want. Cheery? No. Scary? Yes. But probably a good thing — just in case.
anniem
said,
April 6, 2007 at 9:49 pm
I don’t think you were strange, but you teacher…very strange. To freak out some high school kids and have them plan their death arrangements seems sort of traumatizing, no?
H. Squirrel
said,
April 6, 2007 at 10:08 pm
How could we BOTH link to the same 5 stages of grief on the same day?! That is insane.
Christar
said,
April 6, 2007 at 10:21 pm
I always found it super creepy that classes asked you to ‘plan’ your own funeral. Sure, you want your loved ones to know what you’d want, just in case, but it always freaked me out. I don’t think I could have been as brave as you and gone to a funeral home to look at caskets and such… even now!
Lindsey
said,
April 7, 2007 at 3:56 pm
You are so not freaky…I’ve had similar thoughts. I apparantly thought highly of myself too because I told a few people that if I die, to please have my poetry published. Um…yeah. And I’ve also gone on record as saying that I want a pink and black funeral. I don’t want all black, it’s too cliche for a funeral, I want a bright, happy color too and I want people to sing happy songs! I haven’t picked out on outfit yet, but then, I think I want to be creamated. Don’t worry, I’ve made that one known to others too.
angela
said,
April 7, 2007 at 6:56 pm
That is such a weird assignment to have in school. I love that you wanted to be buried in tie dye though. That’s hilarious.
Britt
said,
April 8, 2007 at 4:17 am
I went through a stage when I was young in which I believed that I was going to be shot in a drive-by shooting and wouldn’t live to be 12 (weird, eh? Drive-by shooting??. I wasn’t so much worried about my funeral arrangements; I was more worried about who would take over my posessions when I was gone, so I wrote a will. Heaven forbid my obnoxious little brother take over my tape player!
Perhaps I should update my will.
That is really weird that your teacher had you plan your own funeral for an assignment. The kids in my AP Psych class were strange enough as it was. I can’t imagine what planning their own funerals would have done to them.
Emily
said,
April 8, 2007 at 4:31 am
I can’t believe your teacher was allowed to do this! I think she had some issues.
Frema
said,
April 8, 2007 at 11:42 am
I included plans for my burial in one of my journals. WHEN I WAS THIRTEEN YEARS OLD. I have no idea why.
I do remember saying that I wanted to be buried in Arlington Cemetery under a big tree. ‘Cuz that’s not unrealistic at all.
Recently Luke and I have been talking about this very subject, and we haven’t decided where we’ll “lay,” but we do know it won’t be Indianapolis. Hopefully we have some time to sort things out.
One more thing: yellow caskets? I’m so in.
Lisa B
said,
April 9, 2007 at 3:40 am
YOu know, maybe your teacher was trying to impart the fact that kids aren’t invincible? (I never understood how high school kids could think that even at that age. Course I was highly accident prone. heehee.)
I still think about stuff like that now and again. But I tell my hubby that once he gets the life insurance money, he’s not allowed to spend it on strippers or pay for his new girlfriend’s store bought boobies. heehee.
CPA Mom
said,
April 9, 2007 at 2:10 pm
Your teacher? Creepy. Your plans? Normal for kids that age. Didn’t we ALL obsess over death? Seriously weird though, I was suicidal for many years and never planned out my funeral.
You know I was widowed when I was 28 and had to make all those decisions for my late husband. The cost, seriously, was astronomical. They rape you after you are dead. Or they rape your survivors.
Get life insurance, stat! That’s my advice for today. Thank you, carry on.
p.s. I put the words to You Are My Sunshine on his grave. It is an appropriate song!
Rob
said,
April 9, 2007 at 2:21 pm
I have committed my wife to playing “Another one bites the dust” on a load speaker as my body is driven to the place where you donate bodies for science. She claims that she never agreed to that, but she did.
ReDinkyDink
said,
April 9, 2007 at 4:00 pm
That is really messed up. Teenagers don’t need to know that much about death. Wow… I’d have been scarred too.
Gawain
said,
April 9, 2007 at 8:18 pm
I must say that I love the idea of “You Are My Sunshine” being sung by friends and family in a church. How many times would you have the group repeat the song? I feel that if my loved one wished to have the song sung it would feel a bit empty to end after only one go round since it is such a short song. You may want to consider documenting the number of repeats.
Jill
said,
April 9, 2007 at 11:16 pm
Planning a funeral for a loved one really sucks!!! Having your funeral all planned for how you want it is the very best thing. When you are in so much grief all of it can be very overwhelming!
Rachel
said,
April 10, 2007 at 4:03 pm
Well that was a different kind of post! I have never thought about what kind of funeral I would like. Ever. And, yeah, that is kind of a weird thing for a teacher to assign to her high school students, but, I suppose everyone should have some sort of plans.
Fraulein N
said,
April 11, 2007 at 1:26 pm
Like CPA Mom, even when I was seriously suicidal, I never thought about funeral plans. I’m selfish like that, I guess. I think I’ve always imagined something low-key and as little of a financial burden as possible.
hola, isabel » What does “Esprit” mean anyway?
said,
April 13, 2007 at 6:13 pm
[...] Yes, that’s a Polo shirt. But it’s a knock off that one of my dad’s students made in his graphic arts class. (And also, those are totally the shorts I wanted to be buried in. I miss them.) (And also, why do I keep posting horrible pictures of me as a teenager for the world to see? Why?) [...]