So I started with what was coming the fastest. My final days. I made a list. Not a bucket list...those are for the dying. (I was in denial. That was obvious.) But I made an "oh shit" list. A list of things that my brain and heart kept saying "Oh shit, you better do that now!" It ranged in items from clean the pics I didn't want my kids to see off of my computer and clean out my nightstand. Belly dancing, sky diving and going to see Peyton Manning play with my most beloved Broncos. It also lots of stuff like make a blanket tent and sleep in it with my kids, sample every chocolate that See's makes and drink beer with a straw.
I realized I needed to prioritize. And staring at me from the top of the list was plan my funeral. Damn that pissed me off. I remember spitting on my computer screen and walking away. I mean why is the best party of my life, where everyone actually shows up, going to be AFTER my life? I wanted to see everyone. I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to tell mean girls from my childhood that them tearing up my cowboy hat or inviting me to their birthday party out of sympathy hurt then but made me tough in preparation to fight the beast now. I wanted to thank them. And I wanted to dance. Eat. Laugh. Reminisce. But WTH? Everyone gets to do all this and I get to lay there cold and dead and rotting? Screw that.
So I started planning a destination funeral. You know? Like a destination wedding? I decided I would purchase multiple caskets I loved and also choose places I loved and let everyone vote on which casket and which destination. Here were my casket selections in no particular order:
1. Bwahahaha Rest in Peas! I knew I could get the last word with this one.
2. Popcorn is one of my faves. And I thought it would be fun to serve popcorn and beer at my funeral and watch the movie of my life. Or the Bronco game.
3. With a big sign that says "Call me baby!"
4. This is divine. It's actually furry. Now that has swagger!
5. Too cliche but solid.
6. and of course zebra. Zebra is my thing.
I couldn't choose so I knew leaving it up to all of my friends and family would be fun. So I was preparing to put it to a vote. Before I died. So I could see it. Touch it. Take pics with it. Sick right?
And my destination locations?
Mile High Stadium. Are you seeing how much I love the Broncos?
This pier in Ocean Beach, San Diego California. There's a story. But I wish I could stand on this pier everyday of the rest of my life.
A balloon over the Freedom Festival Parade route. I did karate for 3 miles every year with my kids in this parade. I loved it. Becoming a black belt was a life changing journey.
I wanted to stay in the places that had given me moments in life. Inspired me. Brought me joy. Like I was still living.
But guess what? I wasn't going to get any of it. None. I hadn't planned for anything like this. I was sick and broke. I knew someone somewhere would see I at least got cremated. Or given the Mormon chapel funeral I so desperately did NOT want. We'd have funeral potatoes and then my non Mormon friends would go drink beer and that would be it. Just dead.
I was pissed. I was disappointed in myself. How did I never even think to plan for anything like this? It is foolish. And as if my death wouldn't be hard enough on my family, now I would burden them financially with my burial.
Oh wait. I don't have much family. My kids 8 and 9 at the time. My nearly 80 year old mother. My half brother. A few close friends. That's it. No husband to mourn me and see to a beautiful tribute.
So I made a decision. I did not want to burden anyone. I wrote everything down I wanted to say. I wrote dozens of letters. I wrote to my kids. My Mother. My best friends. The man I loved that I couldn't have. My doctors. People I had hurt asking for forgiveness. People who had hurt me and I needed to forgive. I put them all in my firebox with certain things to go with them. And then I decided when the time truly came, I would have my destination funeral. Alone. I would find a way to just disappear. There. I had a plan.
And then it happened. My mentor. My beautiful warrior sister. My ray of hope that it can be beat. She died. My Deana died. And my world stopped.
It was over a month before her funeral. Christmas made it too hard for her loved ones to travel. But in January I made the journey to her. I walked into her funeral. I was numb. I wanted to face the beast and kick it's ass. While sitting next to dear friends celebrating her extraordinary impact on everyone around her I had a moment. I realized that this gathering. The mourning. It HAD to happen. If she had just disappeared like I was planning, I would have never forgiven her. No one would.
I don't have any amazing story of her presence after death or visiting me in dreams. She lead me while she was here. She left a legacy. What was mine?
There is a tremendous beauty in death. Not in the sorrow of death itself. But in the legacy you leave behind. That day forever changed my life. It was not longer about looking back but about looking ahead. It was not about forgiving others or being forgiven. It was about forgiving me. Finally loving me. Yes, me.
You can't give what you don't have. You can't give beauty with an ugly heart. You can't feel joy with a selfish soul. And you can't leave a legacy by hoping. You must do. You must LIVE!
*If you have done nothing to prepare for your own inevitable death, do it now. It is a great blessing to you family to know what you want, and possibly even have it paid for before they are burdened with it.*
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