Dead People Don't Care Anymore
Why should we?
I recently found a blog called Modern Loss and it’s got some very well-written stories by average folks dealing with loss in their own way.
One story that really resonated with me was written by a mom who also lost her son. It details how she handled his phone calls after he died.
It’s called, Screening Calls for My Dead Son
Definitely worth reading because she mirrors what I think are every grieving person’s sentiments about handling the affairs of the departed.
She straight up didn’t care. Neither did I.
It's sort of comforting, but also mildly terrifying to think that one day, every pressing thing on your to-do list will vanish. Everything that means anything to you won’t matter anymore.
Because we’ll be dead.
The notion crossed my mind about a year ago when I wrote out my inappropriate thoughts on cremation for the world to see.
My son was my only child. That means when I die there will be nobody left on this planet who will care enough to cart around and store my belongings the way I’ve done with his.
It’ll likely be my landlord who gets tasked with cleaning out my home.
Death raises silly questions like:
After I die who will even care about my child’s urn sitting in my living room?
Where will they put it?
Does it matter in anyone’s bigger picture but mine?
And most importantly, who the hell is going to file my tax return?
The answer to all those questions is, WHO CARES!!??
I will no longer exist so it certainly won’t be keeping me up at night wondering where my whole family’s ashes end up.
I remember the mile-long checklist of closing out my son’s life and it felt so pointless.
I certainly didn’t go out of my way to inform the “official” world that he was deceased. I just sat back and fielded eventual phone calls from businesses that were looking for him.
Of all the calls I could have made, there’s one ridiculous call I did make.
His car had been issued a parking ticket after he died and for some reason, I felt it necessary to call the parking authority and try paying the ticket. Total grief-brain moment. Of course, they waived the ticket. Duh.
I have no idea why I thought the Vancouver parking authority was more important than, say, the government.
The truth is after we’re gone there are no consequences. They’ll figure it out someday.
It’s kind of amusing to think that we could end up sitting on a cloud, looking down and wondering who’s going to cancel our doctor's appointment next month.
Do you ever have irrational concerns about what happens to your possessions after you’re gone? Or your day planner?
Does it even matter?
Why do you think funeral companies advertise their services and try to reverently advise you to pay in advance of your death, for them to put your existance to rest. I ask this with a bit of cheekiness but realistically if you feel you have nobody maybe "self care" is a somewhat satisfying option. I think about this a lot, just can't bring myself to pay upfront, but my "will" for the end of my earth journey will be specified in a document even though it is less important than my eternal journey.
I often wonder what people might think if they read my journals?! I think I might burn them lol. Lots of scathing thoughts I wouldn't want anyone to read. Maybe it's a good thing my penmanship is so bad.