A few months back we bought two lots on our church cemetery and picked out our gravestone. Neither of us want a big fancy marker, so we chose a simple black stone from India. Today we are going to the memorial company to decide on the style of lettering for our names. Twenty years ago, this would have seemed a morbid thing to do, but now it feels okay and isn't scary at all.
Then there's the decision about burial vs. cremation. The thought of being locked inside a box with six feet of ground on top of me is enough to make me insane. Being put in an oven and frying to a crisp is hardly an appealing alternative, but at least it takes away those paralyzing claustrophobic fears. Besides that, I really don't like the idea of another generation possibly digging me up in a thousand years and putting me on display like King Tut.
While we're on this subject, did you hear about the man and his ever-nagging wife who went on a vacation to Jerusalem. While they were there, the wife passed away. The undertaker told the husband, "You can have her shipped home for $5,000, or you can bury her here, in the Holy Land, for $150." The man thought about it and told him he would just have her shipped home.
The undertaker asked, "Why would you spend $5,000 to ship your wife home, when it would be wonderful to be buried here and you would only pay $150?"
The man replied, "Long ago a man died here, was buried here, and three days later he rose from the dead. I just can't take that chance."