Homebodies: It began as a casual weekend conversation

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Published on Saturday, April 29, 2017

By Rita Friesen
The Banner

Warning – some individuals may be offended by the content of this column.

Assurance- I am in great health!

It began as a casual weekend conversation. During the week, I had prepared the order of service for my “Celebration of Graduation from this Life to the Next”. I had chosen the scriptures, the hymns and prayers for my funeral. As I spoke to my trusted friend about this, I mentioned that now I needed to choose the urn. Lets’ just say that as member of the widow’s club, I know how challenging all these decisions can be, and am thinking ahead, wanting to spare my children as much pain as possible. (I am trusting that they will be sad enough at my death!) 

The wonder of it was that my friend was ready to do the same thing. So we made an appointment at the local funeral home to go urn shopping. Arriving on time, we were respectfully guided to the display room. We took a few minutes carefully assessing the urns for suitability and personality. Not surprisingly, we were drawn to the same urn. 

The director quietly mentioned that probably by the time we needed the receptacle, they would no longer be in stock. With laughter, we assured him we were planning to purchase and take our purchase with us. Always the thinker, my friend requested a catalogue for perhaps other options. 

While the director went to obtain one, we took our chosen urn, placed it on the table at the front of the chapel and sat in the front row. Reviewing our choice and getting a sense of what our families will see. After sitting silently a few minutes, I rose and selected another urn and placed it, too, on the table. The director returned to find us sitting there, respectfully selecting our ashes’ home. Not surprisingly my second choice was also by friend’s second choice. After perusing the catalogue, we stuck with our first choice. Having no plans to have simultaneous services it matters not that we are ‘twinsies’.  

The choice now being firmly made, the urn rests on a closet shelf, in my home. My family is aware of where it is and what it is! 

I feel really contented that I have taken care of some of the details for my own service and am confident that the family will, one day, appreciate the care I have taken. It has led to wonderful conversations. When asked what I was doing with my Wednesday afternoon, with a grin I would reply –‘going urn shopping’. How do you respond to that! Usually a quick check to see that I was serious, and then an awkward –‘um, good luck? Have fun? What!’ When I told my sister what my friend and I were doing, after that pause, she quietly replied, “I don’t think it will catch on as a girls’ afternoon out”. 

Life is a series of individual choices. Death is a series of forced decisions, rules and regulations that can boggle the novice. I am at peace that I have done my part, both in life and in preparing for death.