As long as I can remember, Katja and I have disagreed vehemently about what will be done with our corpses after we die. Katja thinks we should both be embalmed and buried in caskets. I think we should both be cremated. These are our respective family traditions, and neither of us has budged a bit over the years. If anything, we’ve become more rigid. A couple of weeks ago, we got in the mail a brochure and questionnaire from the local cemetery where Katja’s parents are buried. It seemed like the time had come to make decisions about these matters, so we made an appointment at the cemetery with a woman named Bonnie.
Katja and I planned to sit down and talk over the issues before our appointment, but, of course, we never got around to it. Bonnie met us at the funeral home lobby and escorted us to an upstairs meeting room with Sprite, Coke, Diet Coke, and water available for us on the table. After five minutes of idle chitchat to relax and size one another up, Bonnie proceeded with a series of life and death questions. When we explained our divergent views on burial vs. cremation, Bonnie said that the cemetery was completely accommodating. We can have a single plot that will hold Katja’s casket and my urn full of ashes. I wasn’t aware of it, but Ohio state law specifies that we will still have to purchase a casket in which I will be cremated. Supposedly this is a matter of proper respect for the dead (not a rip-off by the funeral industry). I joked that my ashes could be put in a paper bag. Bonnie wasn’t amused. According to state law, we would also have to buy an urn which will cost $395.
Bonnie then proceeded to a series of questions regarding services. Options are: (a) no service; (b) a chapel service; or (c) a gravesite service. Bonnie made it clear from her tone and body language that no service was not an acceptable option. We have lost so many friends over the last couple of decades that I couldn’t imagine many attendees for myself beyond immediate family, so I opted for a gravesite service. Bonnie asked if I wanted a religious or secular officiant, and I went secular. Katja, on the other hand, chose a chapel service officiated by a rabbi. (She does, in fact, have more friends than I do.) Katja had a particular rabbi in mind, but, because she doesn’t belong to the rabbi’s synagogue, she was unsure about availability. Bonnie said the funeral home could provide a rabbi just in case.
Having settled the big questions, we went downstairs to the casket shop. There were a lot of models, and they were all appealing. I was worried because the price range ran from $2,000 to $79,000. Katja usually goes for the high end. This time, though, she chose one of the more reasonable options. Just out of coincidence, it was “The Clifton” (which is also the name of the neighborhood in which we’ve lived for the last half century). We then looked at some grave markers. Katja said she wanted a gravestone with an angel on top, but I raised enough of a fuss that she retracted that.
Bonnie tallied up the bill, and it came to about a year of tuition at a respectable private university (reasonable, I finally decided, since we are purchasing space for all eternity). Next Monday we will meet with Jackie to pick out the location of our plot. I suggested something close to Katja’s parents, but Bonnie said that was unlikely since they had purchased theirs thirty years ago. Katja said she wanted to be buried under a tree. While there are lot of trees in the cemetery, there is the problem of roots. I am sure we will find something we like. I don’t think we’ve ever made plans this far in advance in our entire married life. Grisly as the topic may be, it’s sort of a relief.
Love,
Dave
