Will my jaw slack?

How far?

A Death Cavern so wide you’ll see my amalgam fillings?

Or, maybe those will be long gone, replaced by dry and tender gums…

And maybe my jaw will be just slightly agape.

Like, a modest, respectable kind of easy looseness.

How stiff will I get?

Rock hard?

Or only slightly pliable,

Just stiff enough to have to cut my lovely funeral attire and tuck it around me to make it look like it was no big deal to put this sweet outfit on a corpse…

I’ll try to stay casual for as long as possible.

You’re welcome.

Will anyone attempt to put make up on me?

By all means, give it a go.

We’re talking home funeral here- if we’re all lucky- so as long as you are not a mortician, have at it.

Please though: do something a little funny.

Just weird enough so that if someone got close they’d have to look really hard.

They’d be confused, get slightly shaken and need to look around for a second opinion…

Whispering: “Oh my god. What is…? Mary, come here. Look. What is on her tongue? Can you see…. A toy frog in there?”

Do it.

Sniff my skin.

You want to, I know.

Look in my ears and up my nose and between my eyelashes.

Am I leaking?

I betcha I don’t look like I’m sleeping do I?

If there are some kids around, invite them in.

Let them play, move, observe sadness, decorate my body with crystals and flowers… Maybe a naughty one will use a little marker on my bare skin. Sure, why not.

Someone sure as hell better speak.

I’ve written my entire eulogy with details for a funeral in any season including musical preference.

“So This is Love, Mmmmmmmm……”

I do hope someone says something wretched though.

How exciting.

And, have a little room off to the side for random sex.

Why should people not have sex at a funeral?

It’s the most rebellious thing you can do at such a time- create life.

Or, at least engage in the show of creating life…

Maybe print some condoms with the date of my death on one side and fat hourglass on the other like… “you might be next”

And, cry.

Give it a good loooooong rip.

Wail.

I’m down with keening.

I’ll be missed, I know it.

I miss myself even writing this now.

I hope I’ve told everyone how much I love them.

I do.

If I’m able to, before I blast off in to the most exquisitely gorgeous Oneness that no human can fully know,

I’m gonna try to,

For just one second,

Scare the shit out of someone who doesn’t believe in ghosts.

Author of Death Nesting and Ancient Death Doula Series. Feeding Your Demons Facilitator. Community Deathcare teacher. Mama of three. www.annemariekeppel.com

Author of Death Nesting and Ancient Death Doula Series. Feeding Your Demons Facilitator. Community Deathcare teacher. Mama of three. www.annemariekeppel.com