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When I die, do not mourn my passing. Do not hold a somber funeral filled with friends and family dressed in all black, but rather Celebrate my Life. When I say Celebrate, I mean do so the way I would have. Remember me as I'd been. Do not rush round my home hiding all of the things that made me who I was.





A good friend of mine passed here recently, murdered in her own home. When I attended her funeral I was struck by how many friends and family mourned her. I wasn't surprised, but extremely touched. I don't cry, at least not very often. But when I walked by her casket and saw her for the last time, I started to do so. I speak of this, because it is partly what has sparked the need to write this journal entry. April was a good friend, and a loving mother. She was (100% redneck). When I saw her in her final bed, She looked like she could have sat up at any moment and started joking. My roommate teared up, and he cries less than I do. She was a good friend. She wouldn't have wanted anyone to be crying or sad.



I decided long ago that I don't want to be mourned, but remembered. And I swear to my Father, if anyone plans me a funeral, I will come back from the dead and kick their ass.



Also...could someone please come to the party dressed as the Grim Reaper?

COMMENTS

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ThedarkprinceVvvvV
02:47 May 27 2013

Very interesting,

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