It’s my party

Or at least it will be.

A few years ago I pretty much planned out my funeral the way I want it to be handled. I did this mainly because I didn’t want my kids to have to do it, no matter how old they happen to be when I pass. At the time, I gave my unfinished draft to the local funeral director (who I happen to know personally), but I haven’t actually finalized or legalized it yet.

Every once in awhile something will happen that reminds me that I need to wrap up my death wishes so that when I do die, I can rest assured that at least one of the things in my life went according to my plan.

Today, I was talking to a friend, who thought it was very funny that I am actually banning a certain couple of people from my funeral. It’s not funny, really. It’s serious. It could be worse, because if these people were to happen to show up and shed even one tear over my dead body, I would reach up from the casket and strangle their neck. Dead and all, I would do that. So, it’s for their own good.

Am I bitter? No. Sort of. However, my funeral will be a celebration of my life (not my death), of which these people gave no shit about, and had no qualms about letting me know this. Therefore, they don’t deserve to all of a sudden care about me….when I’m dead. Basically, if they cry, they’ll be a) lying or b) begging for un-deserved sympathy. Nope. Not on my time they won’t.

It’s my final party, and I’m going to do it none other than, my way! This amazing song that pretty much sums up my story, will be the last. . .

. . . following Ozzy Osbourne and Billy Joel and Kansas and . . . others.

Yes, it will be, my way.