Assignment #52- Write a phone call you wish you could have.

Emily's new post reminded me that this blog still exists and it was such a good idea to begin with. This is an easy one. No deadlines, just post it when you can. You can change the names or keep them the same.

RE: This blog is not dead!

Okay, as part of today's scientific endeavor to prove that hope springs eternal and no good blog ever dies...

Suvi's Assignment #51, from last Spring:What do you want done with your body when you die. Hmm...

After I die, and I guess pretty soon after to avoid complications I'll get to later, I would like people to take a moment to look at my fingertips. Fingertips are so important, and they're not given nearly enough attention in life. They're how I've learned and acted on so much of what is important to me since before i was born -- my mom's face, the stubble on the face of a love who is sad, a basketball that slipped out of my grip, tree bark with moss, the strings of my violin when the sound is running through them. I would like everyone to notice that I had stopped nibbling my fingernails by the time I died, and remember what a big deal that was to me. My favorite fingerprint was the ring finger on my right hand -- it's coencentric circles that look like the kind of knob in a tree where an owl would live. The middle finger of my left hand looks like a hurricane image from space. My left thumbprint looks like Hokusai's Great Wave print. And the rest are kind of like Nike swoops. Call me crazy, but at various points in my living life I found meaning in each of those things. Everybody can pick a fingertip and remember it.

Then, after that, it doesn't matter much to me. If science would like it, take it. At the end of the day, though, please don't keep me in a jar in a closet or preserved in a box because that will scare children if they accidentally find me one day, and I tried to live my life without scaring children. Plus, I'm not a bug, and don't want people to classify and reclassify me after I'm dead and can't weigh in on the matter any more with my spirit.

A new assignment

how about we resurrect this thing by doing assignment #63-- make an encouraging banner. That we can all do. Hip-hip-hooray!

Junkyard Dawg

If there is any part of my body that can be salvaged, I want it to be like one big fat junk yard...people who need the part can come n' get 'er. I am Mormon like Suvi and members of the LDS church believe in a literal resurrection and the restoration of our physical bodies in a perfected state when Christ returns to the earth. Someone once told me that mormons shouldn't do organ donation because then everything would be wild and crazy during the resurrection. But I like to imagine the comraderie that will necessarily errupt...my pristine liver flying through the air to find me and the second owner waving amicably with a mouthed "thanks" from their own whirlwind of body part restoration. My new friends and I all walking arm in perfectly restored arm as we contemplate the silliness of that whole "imperfect body" business during the first "phase". My funeral will necessarily be closed casket. THe End.

A parrot, a witch and two unicorns walk into a bar...

Ya'll have some good ideas. And though I am well aware of decomposition and how little importance our temporal body has in the grand scheme of things, I think preserving it would be my route. So Id keep it simple. I'm pretty sure I want a traditional funeral ceremony...but I would request of a few things; say, one request would be that my funeral be a funeral/talent show. Sorta like my wedding will be. And all my family and friends would have 1 to 3 minutes to entertain the guests after my eulogy, which would be given by either Steve Puente, Suvi or Ben Howell. Preferably Ben because he would probably forget its a eulogy and talk about the inner workings of pipe organs and their striking resemblance to the living body; which could technically be his talent for the funeral. The only other thing I would like is the first part of a joke on my tombstone. Like; a parrot, a witch and two unicorns walk into a bar..." and thats it. Just the first part of the joke. Or when my wife dies...the joke can continue on her tombstone. I think thats it. 

a million little pieces

I don't like the idea of going into the ground. Maybe it is because of the finality and deadness of it of it-- you are dead, stiff as a nail, and here you rest until you decompose. However, i do like the idea of my cells going and becoming part of everything else when I die. I think I'd like to help that process along. My eyes, donated to someone who can't see. My heart, kidneys, liver, and all the other things inside of my that may still be functioning and useful can go to the people who most need then, the next ones on that long waiting list. Cremation for the rest of me, scattered in a garden (is that allowed?) or in a forest. I'm no good with plants right now but perhaps I can be of some help then. Slightly morbid perhaps, but it gives me a sort of feeling of immortality, that even though my soul isn't connected to my body anymore, my cells can keep living, and maybe continue with an impression of me on them. Perhaps whoever gets my heart will feel a little flutter when they see or hear something that I loved. Or the people with my eyes will see my shadow, catching glimpses of the spirit world (pleasant ones, not the "I see dead people" kind). I like the thought of a fern with my cells forming leaves, touching the wind and waving in it. Cellular memories of me floating around in particles all over the place; that is what I would like when I die.

Treasure and Graveyard

Before I die, I want to take everything precious that I own, meaning journals, old books, some of my artwork/paintings, my jewelry, and some of my nice dresses and stash them in a chest. I would then burry the chest somewhere out in Helvetia, OR where I grew up and leave a map that leads to it somewhere in my parents attic, hoping that years down the road, some kid will find it and be able to have somewhat of an adventure for themselves.

As for myself, I would like to be buried in Winterthur, Switzerland, in a little church graveyard near where my grandparents live. The graves over there are so peaceful and are always decorated with flowers, plants, little statues, and all sorts of lamps and lanterns. Its actually quite calming to walk through them.