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When I Am Not Here

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This has been on my mind for weeks. No, there is nothing wrong with me. I went to a funeral and now my mom is not great. So the idea of mortality is on my mind. When you have to plan a funeral for a person, there is so much to do in a really short amount of time. So, I’d like to make it easy for my family and friends …

I would like to be cremated. I do not want, no matter how much money I have, to spend ten thousand dollars on a cushioned box. I want someone to go to Ross Dress for Less and go to the housewares area and find me something that could double as an urn that’s fun, yet subtle. Some of the items in Ross are questionable. Like don’t put my ashes in a pig cookie jar where the pig nose is a handle to the top of the jar. Have some taste.

Although I want to be cremated, I want to be buried! Period! I don’t want my daughters walking around the house having a laugh about something and then look up and there I am, in a pig cookie jar. So they stop laughing, like, “Oh, so, there’s dead Mom. Great.”

I want good music and I want it playing when people are walking in the place so they don’t sit there acting nervous and uncomfortable. Pink, Keith Urban, Rascal Flatts, Cat Stevens, Ricky Lee Jones, Michael Jackson, James Taylor … you know what I like. If you could wedge in Prince’s “Raspberry Beret” that would be great. Crank it up.

Now, during the service they do a thing called a tribute. That’s where someone walks up and talks about how blessed the world is that you were here. I have taken the time to write my own so no one has to say weird things about how I lit up the room and shit like that. So, typically a family member would read this.

My Tribute

So, if someone is reading this, well (long dramatic pause), I am no longer here. I’m not thrilled to be in this position, but it is what it is. Jennifer, April, Carly, and my new son Michael, I love you guys. Know that you don’t have to be unhappy. Know that there is a whole happy way to live out there waiting for you. Go get it. John, you are the love of my life. Till death did us part. To my siblings and nieces and nephews, thank you for loving me and thank you for all the laughs.

For those people I’ve hurt. Well, sorry. For all the people that I don’t like and that don’t like me. Nothing’s changed. You were a douche bag while I was alive and you remain a douche bag in my death. I will take my complete disgust at the sight of you to my grave. And being that it’s obvious that I am getting to heaven first, because you are sitting there and I’m in this pig cookie jar, the first order of business is to go to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and throw your ass so hard under the bus your head will spin. Just know that every time you slip on some ice, there is someone in heaven laughing their ass off. By the time you get to heaven, the Lord will want no part of you and know what a bullshitter you are.

Also, don’t anyone go being all sad. I am in heaven; I win. The conditions of my life on Earth were so ridiculous that I earned my place in heaven. Heaven is a great place. They say it’s like Vegas. And I know some people in heaven, so don’t be sad. Well, I guess you could be sad for a little while just out of respect, but don’t overdo it.

I have had a life of laughter. I have had a great time. I have been lucky. And please come to my reception afterward. U2 will be playing. (I understand if you can’t pull that one off.) I love all of you guys. Well … most of you. That’s been my time.

The end.

Now, it will probably be thirty-nine years before someone has to read that, but it’s done. I may tweak some things before then, but for now it would be good enough in a pinch, which death usually is. And I know this is hacky, but in my death, I won’t care about being hacky. I want my headstone to read: “I told you I wasn’t feeling well.”

I think that covers it. Again, it will be a long, long time before this plan will need to be put in to action, but someone needs to make sure this shit happens.

Until then, I will cry a little and laugh a lot …

One week later …

If by chance, John (my husband), we have won the lottery or are swimming in money, there is one thing I never did in my life that I could actually implement at the departure party. I would like my ashes sitting on a half moon that will be dramatically lowered from the ceiling while the song “If I Could Turn Back Time” by Cher blasts through the grieving people. I want the half moon to be glittery, bedazzled, and a real show stopper. That way it would be so dramatic that people would say, “Oh my, it’s Dina’s ashes sitting on the moon in that jar. This is the best funeral I have ever been to.”

Also, and not a big thing if you can’t make it happen, a few days ago I saw a seven- or eight-year-old little boy wearing a T-shirt. It had a photo, of the Lord Jesus Christ (our personal savior), and right under Jesus was a photo of a man throwing a gang sign … then of course the whole RIP and a date. I’d like that. Something people could just throw on and wear to Walmart. That’s it for now. But I think I’ve really covered the main things. Love you and I think this whole thing is really gonna be a lot of fun! Way, way down the road!



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