Did you ever think about dying and being buried? I have.  I asked myself why would I want that?  I think it’s less fun for survivors and the burial lets them off the hook. They plant the corpse, brush their hands, and walk away. They can’t do that when they’re handed an 8-pound box of bone and ash. They’re stuck.

I can picture them circled around the dining room table asking one another, “What should we do with Dad?”  If the roles were reversed, I would certainly be saying that. What you don’t want after a funeral is that box in your home. Where ya’ gonna put it? Freezer, maybe but it’s gonna take up room and there’s never enough room in a person’s freezer.

So, someone has to finally ask the question: “Where do you think he would want to be?”  I think the trick here is to find someplace close, unless the estate will pay for your disposal trip. If that the case, I would start to remember all the exotic places he went, or better yet, the place he always wanted to go. “Remember who Dad always wanted to travel Europe.” I would say. I would go on to list several cities where I could dump a few of the old man’s ashes in a river.

If you can’t pass the hat among the relatives to pay your expenses, and you’re still stuck with that dusty box, then find someplace close. The best place, for passive aggressive types, and I’m not mentioning any names, would be at a sibling’s house. “He’d always talk about wanting to have more time with Olivia.” for example. I would call this the drop & run technique. If you’re stuck though, then any neighborhood bridge or body of water works great. Won’t take long either. You’ll be home by dinner.

I thought long and hard just in the past few days about my funeral ashes and I think I’ve come up with the perfect disposal plan. It’s going to be an interactive bonding ritual for all of my friends and relatives, and one that will leave me chuckling through eternity.

My funny, silly, beautiful wife, Jennifer, will take possession of my ashes. She will take 2” diameter by 4” tall aluminum containers and fill each with my ashes and then hand these out to the mourners at the wake with the words: “Tom asked me to ask you to please wear a smudge of these on your forehead once each year until the canister is empty.”

There are sure to be protests, but Jenny and I have that covered. For example, when a mourner says,  “Well Jeepers. That would be kind of conspicuous and I just don’t think that I can do this.” Jennifer replies with, “Yes. Tom thought about that, especially when asking you. He wants you to wear them on your forehead in the shape of an X on the Catholic holy day of Ash Wednesday. There will be many others with ashes on their forehead that day each year. In fact, some of them will probably be Tom’s old friends.” Oh, no. No one walks away without a tin of Tommy at my funeral.

How’s that for a tribute? This plan has a big benefit to our environment, too. Holy Smokes, if everyone keeps dumping ashes into our lakes and streams, then no one will want to swim in them. Think of the poor fish, too. We need to nip this in the bud now. At least here in the U.S., the European vacation/dump thing should be left to the Europeans.

So come on, get this request into your last will and testament now. Don’t you want to go out as one crazy cadaver? What do you say? Let’s put the ashes back into Ash Wednesday.