Maybe When I'm Dead I'd like...



I realized something that matters only to me and to maybe the few people who will be affected by my new realization.

Everybody who knows me probably knows that I absolutely refuse to be buried when I die.  It seems so restrictive, even though I believe that my spirit won’t be there anymore anyway, it still seems too restrictive. 

But then the other day, two days ago, I realized something about me and what makes me comfortable.   

You see, I like being wrapped in comfort.   
When I sleep, I want the covers wrapped around me tight.   
It makes me feel safe.   

Safe and cozy. 
  
When it’s cold outside, I like warm soft fabric touching me always.  It makes me feel comforted.  In that big bad world out there, at least I know that the only job the fabric next to my skin has, is to make me feel warm, safe and protected.   When I am in a social setting, you can find me in a corner or somewhere with my back to the wall, looking out, knowing that I can see everything and that no surprises are behind me waiting to scare the crap out of me.   

I like a nook.   

At my mother’s house, my favorite space to sit used to be this little stool, in the corner of the kitchen.  It's gone now, that little stool, and I get a little disoriented still, trying to find my comfy spot.  I always pick the seat at the end of the sofa, usually near a corner of a room.  I always do this.  Most of the time it’s not even a conscious decision and I usually only realize what I’ve done a little later.

So that brings me to my idea of wanting to be cremated and not buried. 
It seems such a freeing idea, my ashes floating in the oceans of Brazil, or flying over a huge majestic mountain.  Oh how beautiful.  Right?
But now, seeing clearly my preferences, maybe I do want to be all cozy and safe in a casket 6 feet underground.  Maybe I could love the idea of the peace and quiet and lack of drama (unless I’ve been wrong all along and my soul does find itself being fought over by the good guy up there and the bad guy down there after all).   
Maybe down in the ground, in a black velvet casket, I’ll finally be cozy enough…

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