So I get to write my own Eulogue?
My dad’s funeral is like a video playing in my memory. Every detail, who cried, who attended, who drove hundreds of kilometers to pay their last respects…every minuscle detail.
The minister was an elderly man and forgot to invite my husband to do the tributes. He wanted to get up to do his dues but I stopped him…why? My dad was not a guy who wanted to be acknowledged. He was happy who he was, what others knew about him and how he died.
What do I hope people remember about me after I’m gone?
When you lay me down to rest,
I will not be the one with the heavy feeling in the chest!
You may cry, you may laugh,
You might feel you want to die.
Don’t be sad
Don’t be sorry
What I had
Was more than the best!
Seriously, will it really matter what you remember about me after I am gone? No.
But, you will remember how I was put to rest. That is for sure. See, I don’t want to be cremated. Grave yards are empty.
No, I want to be buried in the water. In the sea.
There is one condition though, I must die after my mom because she will never make the trip on the boat!
And when you sit and ponder
and listen to the ocean
Know that I am in the lyrics
“Ek was lief vir alles hier!”
(translated to: “I loved everything here”)