Next day was the meeting at the funeral home. It was pretty straight forward, we had already talked about this and HE wanted to be cremated. Easy-peasy lemon squeezy as HE would say. (Yes, he actually did say that).
Public Service Announcement: Please have that conversation with your loved ones; it cuts through a huger amount of confusion/worry/bullshit.
We choose the date for the visitation/memorial service and all the other crap that has to be arranged.
Funeral homes offer a wide range of tacky ways to go (literally). While there I read a brochure that explained that for 3 grand I could have my loved one’s ashes compressed into a jewellery-quality gem-stone in a wide rang of colours and then set into the ring or pendant of my choice. Not kidding, check out the link here http://www.lifegem.com/
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| Dolphin urn, percious, no? |
And there’s all kinds of tacky “keepsake” containers you can choose from as well. And we hadn’t even gotten to the “showroom” of the urns and caskets! There honestly is no accounting for taste.
I had to choose a casket for HIM to be cremated in, they are cheaper and uglier than the ones people get buried in. HE had always said to just send him in, in a cardboard box but apparently that’s not an option anymore. (The funeral director told me crematoriums now insisted on a box with a wooden base to prevent “seepage”). So in line with HIS wishes I choose the cheapest one there. Dad helped me choose an urn, they run the gamete from hideously expensive to hideously ugly. We choose one that was nice, plain and didn’t scream “DEAD GUY IN HERE”. (As apposed to the football one that screamed “DEAD FOOTBALL FAN IN HERE).
Our funeral director also outlined what was going on with HIM, HE had quite the travel itinerary before the service. After the accident he was taken to the nearest town’s hospital, from there (due to the nature of the accident) he went to a much bigger town to be autopsied, after he was released by the coroner he went to the funeral home in our town to be prepped, then off to the crematorium about 2 hours away, then back to the funeral home….HE hated his commute to work so I can only imagine how this thrilled him.
Back at home more phone calls where made or answered, we read the stupid newspaper article (it was nice but on the front page and I didn’t want it in the first place), and more food arrived.
We also had a meeting with one of the police officers who responded on scene of the accident, he had some questions for me and said he could answer some of my questions about the accident. Ten seconds in the door he announces he’s allergic to cats and can we do this outside…
…Ummm, outside? You want to talk about the last moments of my husband’s life, outside? Outside in plain view of my unemployed dope-smoking neighbors? Outside with the communal driveway that sees plenty of car and foot traffic? Outside with all the cars driving down the main street of the town?!
(SUPERPOWERS ACTIVATE)
No, suck it up Princess.
So, he sat, sniffling over cat allergies and proceeded to describe the accident, what had happened, and what he had done on-scene. To hear him tell it, it wasn’t so much a car accident as a scene from Die Hard.
He was very over the top and clearly trying hard not to seem too impressed with his role. I had problems looking him in the eye and didn’t risk looking at P through his monologue.
Just to be clear, I do appreciate what he and the others did. I appreciate anyone who joins the police, ambulance or fire fighters. The have dangerous jobs and have to deal with all kinds of horrific scenes regularly. I’m thankful he and other were there.
I just think he needs to tone down how he relays info about fatal traffic accidents.
Luckily “C” rolled up to check in on me and had brought her daughter bearing cookies so I headed them off outside since daughter didn’t need to hear any of this.
And that’s when I realized I was going to be an inappropriate widow.
I was describing to “C” the scene inside with Bruce Willis and pretty soon we where both laughing our asses off….the officer who helped pull HIM out of the wreckage is less than 10 meters away and I’m bent over laughing about it. Hmmmmmm, Jackie Kennedy probably showed more grace.
Bruce left shortly after; he imparted some words of wisdom (“Take things one day at a time”) and told me to contact him if I needed anything….like ideas for a movie script?
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