Ruminations of a Red Dirt Hussy

June 1, 2014

Being dead doesn’t mean he can go somewhere without me

Filed under: General — Vadasmaker @ 7:00 pm

My husband wants to be cremated. Burned down to a pile of ashes, for shit’s sake. Not only that, but he says I can’t bury his ashes in one of the two plots we have. He says there’s no point in being cremated if he’s going to be covered up with dirt. My answer to that is just forget about cremation. Then the dirt won’t seem so weird. I mean, it’s not like he was ever a big fan of fire anyway. We’ve had up to nine cats and three dogs buried in our back yard because he didn’t want the vet to cremate them.

According to him, “That was different.” Typical answer when he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. So to speak.

His being cremated will be a freaking disaster. I mean, think about it. If he dies before I do, and it would be just like him to do that, and he’s cremated, where am I going to visit him? Where will I put the plastic flowers? Where will I wear the long black veil I’m going to buy? And how will I justify taking a sledge-hammer to the hideous billboard-sized headstones and angel statues and concrete benches and ceramic cherubs the relatives of the person in the next-door plot are slowly but surely trying to edge us out with? Answer me that!

More importantly, if his body isn’t in that hole, and his ashes aren’t in that hole, where the hell is he going to be? I’ll tell you where. FORT GIBSON LAKE!!! He wants me to take all I’ll have left of him and dump it in the lake.

Jesus in a treehouse. I can’t swim, I always get lost going to the lake, and I’ve seen those movies where people take a trip to spread the ashes of loved ones. Those journeys never end well. Seriously.

So I asked him, “If you have to be cremated, can’t I just take you home with me?”

HE SAID “NO”!!! Can you believe that? He said I’d put him somewhere and forget where. You accidentally put the house phone in your book bag and then leave it at school once and they never let you live it down.

And if I didn’t lose him, he says I’d probably put him on display and then the cats would knock the container over and I’d have to vacuum him up. For shit’s sake. He doesn’t mind being thrown into a fiery furnace and burnt to a crisp, but he has problems with a vacuum cleaner? I might have been born last weekend, but I’ve been studying all week long, and that does not sound right to me.

I know exactly what’s going to happen. I’m going to be stuck in a hole where I’ll spend eternity next to his mother (and her cat, which is a whole other story) and he’ll be going who knows where doing who knows what. I adored my mother-in-law (and that cat, too), but if my husband thinks he’s going to leave me in a cemetery while he goes his merry way, he’s got another think coming.

For 36 years that man has never been anywhere I couldn’t find him, and that’s not going to change just because we’re dead. I just have to figure out how I’m going to make it happen.



  1. Oh Jim…you have certainly got her knickers in a twist….this was a great story… Lily


    Comment by Lily Miceli — June 1, 2014 @ 10:15 pm | Reply

  2. See if Jim envisions this type of celebration….I think anyone would like this kind of party, including you.


    Comment by Michelle — June 2, 2014 @ 12:30 am | Reply

  3. R O F L M A O . . .


    Comment by Ol Baldy — June 2, 2014 @ 2:37 am | Reply

  4. You hit my funny bone this morning. Love you Carol!


    Comment by Pony-tail girl — June 2, 2014 @ 10:25 am | Reply

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