Preparing to head off to The Park to take Ma out for a belated Mother’s Day dinner… Couldn’t take her out last weekend, since i spent both days in a motorcycle rider’s course – getting myself legally certified to ride a two-wheeled death machine.
Nice way to spend Mother’s Day, i think…
Speaking with my children after passing the course, we somehow got to the subject of death and The Boy (again) enquired about my post-death plans.
The Boy: Are you planning to be buried when you die?
daisyfae: My preference is to be cremated. Hate to take up space. But if the two of you decide you want a “place” where you can go to remember me, it’s up to you. i certainly won’t give a shit at that point…
The Boy: I just think it would be cool to go to your grave on Mother’s Day, pour out half of a forty, and say “Missin’ you, Moms”.
daisyfae: Why does it have to be my grave? Wouldn’t it be just as much fun to do it every year to a dead stranger?