After

My contention is that what happens after you die is none of your business. Still I have prepared for my inevitable death and aftermath as much as I can. I’m a practical person and one of the first in my circle of friends to have a will drawn up.  It seemed like the proper thing to do.  In the letter that accompanies it I’ve said not to worry, scatter my ashes if you must, but do it for you, not me.  Remember, I’m dead.  I won’t know what’s happening.  I’ve moved on.

Then Gerry begged to differ.

This week he’ll become the executor of my will.  He’s the perfect candidate.  Caring and compassionate, utterly human.  He owns a businessman’s mind.  He appreciates the game of squash.

His comment, “I’m going to spread your ashes in Scotland”.

Not much stuns me but this hit the mark.  Why?  Well, why would he think to do this? The Scotland idea has never crossed my mind. I’ve said any kind of post dead ceremony wasn’t a requirement and certainly not a request. Now he insists it will happen.  The outcome is not up for debate.

Gerry explained this all in a stiff matter of fact statement.

Later that night I realized we should all talk about what will happen after our bodies are diminished to ash. Better still, we should talk to the “Gerrys” in our lives.  I honestly don’t think I will care if little traces of my body are spread across the land I love.  Gerry seems to know better.

Yet, clearly I care more than I am willing to admit. Well not about where my ashes end up, but that someone like Gerry would even give this a second thought. Having someone who would honour what goes on in my heart far surpasses any objection I grumble about.  It’s the soothing realization that another person cares and has listened to what I hold close. Someone really knows what I cherish and it matters to them.

Isn’t it always the little things?  Well a trip to Scotland with an urn of ashes is not little.  But you know what I mean.

I imagine laying someplace, all too aware that my last breaths are bottoming out, my heart slowing to a stop, the light inside my soul starting to flicker.  At that moment I know a small part of me will shout out a reminder that Scotland is near.  A small part of me will also thank Gerry.