Death

I recognize that I have death on the mind often.

I also have life on my mind. I have birth on my mind.

Death grabs a little bigger part of the pie though, it follows my personality down a darker road I suppose.

Today, I discovered someone else who shares my liking of the Speaker for the Dead concept. I've written of it before, feel free to Google and Wiki the term, you'll find what you need.

Regina Holliday is the person I found. While she doesn't pronounce herself as a Speaker, I read that she was inspired by the concept and stories.

I read some of her blog posts. Something she mentions nags at me.

I don't have a will. Nor any of the other things you are supposed to have set up for end of life, or close to end of life times for yourself.

I think I'll share my thoughts here on that. Obviously, I need to put it down on an official document to have full effect. Call it a rough draft if you will.

To start off, I'd like to tattoo 'DNR' on my chest. Stands for Do Not Resuscitate, but I need to put an asterisk next to it. The asterisk represents my qualifiers for that statement. I understand the human brain can survive a certain amount of time without oxygen, but it's not very long. Cold temperatures can extend this, and age. I would rely on scientific facts, common sense, and experienced opinion to assist in this asterisk item.

I do not wish to be resuscitated from a state where either I have had no oxygen, or heartbeat, if it has been past a certain amount of time. After that time, severe brain damage is guaranteed. I would never want to be severely mentally disabled, or in a vegetative state.

Let's call it two minutes. I can hold my breath for over a minute. I suspect I'd pass out before the two minute mark, and be forced to start breathing again by the good old brain.

Longer than two minutes, let me go. Shorter? Try everything.

If I do end up in a vegetative state, I want to be put down. Not right away, though. Have the family come say goodbye, hold my hands while they are still warm if they wish. But then I want all the useable organs to be harvested, then unplug me.

Once I am good and dead, I do not want a religious funeral. Or anything fancy at all.

I want one of those cheap cardboard caskets you can buy on the internet, I do not want to be embalmed. I don't want any viewing of the body. Cremate me as soon as that cardboard box has arrived. Put my ashes in whatever you want.

If there is enough interest, have a dinner at the VFW hall, or a bar. Show pictures, tell funny stories about me. Most of all, be honest. I wasn't perfect, perfect stories about me would be lies.

The final disposition of my ashes is of no concern to me. Keep them, throw them away, spread them as fertilizer on a farmer's field. As desired.

My one wish after my passing, that is truly selfish, is that I be spoken for. It can be spoken aloud, if any have the interest to do so. Or written down. I do request a Speaker for the Dead for myself.

That's about it.

I salute that monkey that is on all our backs. Death, riding us like we are one trick ponies, from the day we are born.

Cheers, to living every second until we turn to greet it.