First Will and Testament
I, Bethylene, being of relatively sound mind, do hereby make my first will and testament, so that I will not be embalmed if (due to some extraordinary circumstance) I die.
My workable organs I leave to whoever needs them most.
I want to be cremated, and I absolutely refuse to have a viewing. Viewings are probably the sickest ritual to ever spring from some psychopath's morbid fantasies. I will not have viewings for my parents either; I want to remember them and to be remembered alive, not as made-up, preservative-laden shells. Why on earth would anyone think that pickling and painting their relatives' dead bodies was a good idea? I don't get it.
From a religious standpoint, I do not believe that resurrection is hindered by cremation or anything else. God's power is infinite, and it would take just as much of His power to reanimate a rotten corpse as it would to raise a burned corpse.
As for everything else, I leave the $3.95 in my bank account to my brother's trust fund. He also shall inherit my heavy Revereware pans, my pan lids, and my laptop, so he can look at star charts for hours without bugging everyone else who wants to get on the computer.
My sister gets my cat (whom she must care for tenderly), my DVDs, and all the books on my shelves that she actually wants. She can have my dishes, mismatched silverware, measuring cups, and jewelry if they are not too ugly for her.
My mom gets Palestine and the Arab-Israeli Conflict, my coin collection (which is hidden in several different places), and any of my clothes that she would consider wearing. She also may reclaim all the books that I have stolen from her over the years. The lacy full-length slip and a lot of the socks in my underwear drawer shall also be returned.
Grandmother gets my books about Byzantium and the Crusades.
My dad gets my battered scriptures, in which I've scribbled many answers to my prayers. I am very sorry if I leave unpaid medical and phone bills when I die; please understand I did my best to pay them off, except I died.
My diaries and Plead should be either burned or published, whichever is the most feasible. I like to believe that the piles of mementos I've collected (including the souvenirs on my wall) will be kept and cherished, but I think I'll be okay if they're tossed out.
The Seventh Roommate gets one copy of The Reporter, since it may change his life as much as it changed mine. He can't let it depress him too much, though.
The Disney-obsessed One may search my computer for photos she wants to keep. She may also have my gold bangles, for gold looks very good on her, and they would fall off my sister's slender alabaster wrists (I'm not jealous).
My workable organs I leave to whoever needs them most.I want to be cremated, and I absolutely refuse to have a viewing. Viewings are probably the sickest ritual to ever spring from some psychopath's morbid fantasies. I will not have viewings for my parents either; I want to remember them and to be remembered alive, not as made-up, preservative-laden shells. Why on earth would anyone think that pickling and painting their relatives' dead bodies was a good idea? I don't get it.
From a religious standpoint, I do not believe that resurrection is hindered by cremation or anything else. God's power is infinite, and it would take just as much of His power to reanimate a rotten corpse as it would to raise a burned corpse.
As for everything else, I leave the $3.95 in my bank account to my brother's trust fund. He also shall inherit my heavy Revereware pans, my pan lids, and my laptop, so he can look at star charts for hours without bugging everyone else who wants to get on the computer.
My sister gets my cat (whom she must care for tenderly), my DVDs, and all the books on my shelves that she actually wants. She can have my dishes, mismatched silverware, measuring cups, and jewelry if they are not too ugly for her.
My mom gets Palestine and the Arab-Israeli Conflict, my coin collection (which is hidden in several different places), and any of my clothes that she would consider wearing. She also may reclaim all the books that I have stolen from her over the years. The lacy full-length slip and a lot of the socks in my underwear drawer shall also be returned.
Grandmother gets my books about Byzantium and the Crusades.
My dad gets my battered scriptures, in which I've scribbled many answers to my prayers. I am very sorry if I leave unpaid medical and phone bills when I die; please understand I did my best to pay them off, except I died.
My diaries and Plead should be either burned or published, whichever is the most feasible. I like to believe that the piles of mementos I've collected (including the souvenirs on my wall) will be kept and cherished, but I think I'll be okay if they're tossed out.
The Seventh Roommate gets one copy of The Reporter, since it may change his life as much as it changed mine. He can't let it depress him too much, though.
The Disney-obsessed One may search my computer for photos she wants to keep. She may also have my gold bangles, for gold looks very good on her, and they would fall off my sister's slender alabaster wrists (I'm not jealous).
posted by Bethylene at 20:07
2 Comments:
I can respect your opinion about viewings without agreeing with it.
My grandfather had Parkinson's disease my entire life. As long as I knew him (even in the old family movies when I was two) his entire body shook uncontrollably. In the last few years of his life, he was almost totally bedridden, reduced to a shaking shell of his former self.
In his casket, he wore a suit and tie, and, for the first time in nearly two decades, lay perfectly still.
He had his dignity back. That's how I prefer to remember him, and I'm glad I had the chance.
I would like to read Plead. I know it isn't as good as being published, but Firefly had NO sponsorship until after it was off of the air. It didn't even get syndicated (who would syndicate 12 episodes?), but then came Serenity.
So, I would like to read Plead. What do you say? You know where to email a copy :)
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