If you have carpets, Play-Doh.
My father died recently. During the funeral arrangements my poor mother was bombarded with questions regarding the funeral. We settled on most things and I was astonished by how expensive everything was. When it was time to pick the coffin we went into the "coffin room". There were about 15 coffins to choose from. We picked a tasteful wooden coffin. I was shocked when the funeral director quoted me $6,200 for this wooden coffin. He then said that I would likely want a "coffin vault". Not knowing what that was, he showed me a modern coffin vault. Picture a long coffee table with four legs, but it is modeled in the shape of the top of a coffin. They place this plastic, four-legged thing over the coffin in the hole. Not knowing the purpose, I asked "what purpose does this serve?" His response, "it protects the coffin from getting damaged when you cover it with dirt". The price tag, $1,600. I told him that my dad was dead so I'm sure he didn't care if the coffin was damaged and unless something terrible happens, I'm not anticipating seeing the coffin again so no thanks. It's all I could do from telling him to go blank himself. I also decided to check coffins online and found the same one for $3,000. That's what we used.
We went the cremation route at my dad's request and we didn't bother with an urn. The director's face was priceless when I came back and asked to pick up my box of dad. It's OK, though. That was my dad's sense of humor. Our family's attitude is that dead is pretty much just dead. Reminisce all you want, but don't waste resources on the physical stuff.
I still think about my dad in some way nearly every day. I don't think or care about his remains at all.
I realize this puts me in a tiny minority of human kind, but there you are.
Mom and Dad had pre-planned and paid for their funerals. Dad was cremated and they did offer us a chance to pick out an urn. Some of them were unbelievably tasteless. I remember one that was waves and dolphins. We stayed with the basic box. Rather than each child just putting a bit of dirt in the grave, Brother Dave started filling it in - Sister Sue pointed out we wouldn't get a discount. (Yes, we are that kind of family.)
Two days after my mother was buried, Toby of the Fedora tried to come out to sell me a plot near my parent's plot. She said she was contacting all the children but, no, she only contacted the single one. She insisted that she needed to see me in person so I could sign off saying I refused the opportunity to reserve a plot near them. I got her off the phone by saying she could mail it to me and that I was going to be cremated and make my sisters keep me on their mantles. Never did get that letter.
People trying to sell you unnecessary items in a time of grief are the worst.
No, I'm with you. We had a similar experience when each parent died. My brothers seemed petrified by making the choices in burial styles but, even though I was pretty young, I knew that less was more, when it came to my parents. The are both at Arlington now and we stop in and knock on the vault door every so often.
Now, their wakes were two huge, boisterous, wonderful events Far more laughter than tears but tears nonetheless. Classic Irish.
Nothing incites bodily violence quicker than a Duke fan turning in your direction and saying 'scoreboard.'
Just put me in a Folgers can from Ralphs.
Gonna fight you on this one! Crocs saved me when I had plantar fasciitis. Love them! Yes, they are ugly, but they are comfortable. Love their flops, too.
But, not gonna go here:
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