Homeland Farm

Homeland Farm

Friday, February 10, 2012

Death and the Manure spreader

      I know that sounds like a very unusual title for today's blog. That's what is so scary about my mind. Like the good Lord himself, it does work in mysterious ways. I have been thinking about the subject of death lately with the recent passing of my cousins father. You remember Zenya, from earlier blogs? She and her sister Natasha recently lost their father, at the age of 81.
      So, I started to ponder what will happen when I die, or as I prefer to say..when I croak. Of course, there will be lots of wailing and gnashing of teeth (what DOES that mean anyway??) and I'm fairly certain that the current president of the United States will in fact, order the flags to be flown at half mast. But then what? What exactly will happen then? I've decided I need to think about this and get it down on paper, (or blog) because you just never know when you will wake up and be south of the sod, as it were.
      We are fortunate enough to have a family plot on the back forty of our farm, so I have always planned on being planted over there. You may have read about it, in one of Stephen Kings books, "Needful Things" I believe it was. It is called Homeland Cemetary. I am not sure if it is a good thing or a bad thing that the KING OF HORROR knows of my final resting place, but it does make for good conversation. So does the fact that once the cemetary was established, we were in need of..bodies. So, we dug some up. Before you call the police, let me explain.
     As I have mentioned, this farm has been in our family for 5 generations, and has been passed down from one mother to another, starting with my great grandmother Allie. Then the farm went to her daughter Althea, (my grandmother), then on to my mother Betty, and now to me, (Carmen, but..you probably knew that), and then I plan on passing it on to my daughter Brogan. Just  noticed our first initials sounds like my grades in high school..2 A's, 2 B's and 1 C. (math...yuck).
     Back to the bodies. Anyway, when my great grandmother and grandfather died, we didn't have the family plot established yet, so they were buried in town. Once the cemetary was completed, we all decided that they would REALLY have wanted their final resting place to be here, at the farm where they lived, worked and raised their family. So, we had them dug up. Or as the funeral guy called it.."Exhumed." I guess that does sound better..my dog "digs things up," funeral directors "exhume" people. If that isn't spelled right, I am blaming my spellcheck.
      So, we brought Allie, Ashbel, and my grandmothers twin sister that died as an infant home to Homeland Farm, and you guessed it..reburied them. ( UN-exhumed them?) They haven't complained (much) (but thats a different story), so I guess they like being back on the old homestead.
      Now, I have been over at the cemetary a million times over the years, and I have been trying to figure out where and how I want to lay. Uphill?...downhill?...facing the farm?..facing the pasture?...beside my grandparents? It is a tough call. One easy call was that I wanted to be buried comfortable. NO fancy duds to spend eternity in. I always wanted ..wait for it...a granny nightgown, and I wanted to be on my side. I HATE sleeping on my back. It is too uncomfortable, and I get leg cramps. Now obviously  I won't when I am dead....or will I? No one can assure me I won't because they have never been, well..dead. So, I am not taking any chances. I want to be in a granny nightgown, on my side. But....then, I thought they do tend to "ride up." I hate a bunched up nightie in bed, or casket too I suppose. I actually prefer to sleep au natural, but then I would definately need a closed casket. Naww, I wouldn't want to do that to the morticians.
      So, recently I have been giving thought to being cremated. No mess, no fuss. That of course led me to thinking what I would be..stored in. Well, the likely choices would be..a champagne bottle, a mason jar, or even a grain bag( there is quite alot of me..). Then I came up with the best solution. Keep me in whatever vessel ( tupperware?)  until spring, and then when it comes time to fertilize the fields with the manure spreader,  sprinkle a dusting of Carmen on every outgoing load. I will be uphill..downhill..facing the farm..facing the pasture AND next to my grandparents ALL at the same time! Problem solved...and NO bunched up nightie!

Ready for my last ride!
The youngest generation Liam and Nolan standing at their great- great grandparents stone in Homeland Cemetary

No comments:

Post a Comment