Eenie, Meenie, Mausoleum, Mo!

bananasI drove by a really nice cemetery today, and I started thinking…Where will I rest eternally?  That is, if you can call being dead, resting.
It really isn’t that big of a deal to me, but I hope it will matter to somebody:  I’m pretty sure I won’t notice.  My paternal grandparents are buried behind the church that I grew up in.  That would be fine with me, but I don’t know how much room is left.  Dead or alive, I need my space.
To be honest, I would like to be preserved and put on display.  Maybe in a glass coffin, like Stalin, except with my eyes open.  It’s easy for people to talk bad about you when they’re just looking at a tombstone, but if they were looking at me, and I was looking right back at them…They might show a little more respect!

I can hear ’em now, “Look!  Wherever I go in the room, his eyes follow me!”

Wherever I end up, I sure hope it’s a long time from now.  I’ve got a lot left to do in this life.


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