I read a lovely post about how “things” are not important in the final analysis. When we die, our stuff will go to people who probably won’t appreciate it like we do. If it’s worth anything, our heirs will sell it. If it’s not valuable, they’ll give it away or trash it. The post was thought provoking and spot-on about what is important in life.
It really ticked me off.
I can’t take it with me? Wanna bet? Just watch me.
I’m not taking any risks with my truly important belongings. That’s why I’ve pre-ordered the Eternally Fresh Doublewide model from Tupperware’s new coffin collection.
Here are just a few of the things that are coming with me:
- My collection of little, plastic Florida souvenir shoes from the 50s, which are covered in glitter and crushed seashells: in
- A small piece of lined notebook paper, its childish printing fading but still legible “Deer Mom, I love you, by Liz”, that is currently tucked deep down in the recesses of my wallet: in for sure
- The empty pill bottle (with child-proof cap) that Gwen gave me many years ago for Mother’s Day. She put a sticker that says “mom” on it and put 2 drops of perfume inside. You can no longer read what she wrote on the little piece of torn paper still stuck on the side, but I know it says “a good smell”. For years that’s what I got every time I opened it. I always carry it in my purse: in to the Doublewide it goes
- My Christmas sweatshirt, size 3X so there’s room in there for the whole family. It has a cracked, puffy, rubber Christmas tree on the front, and wrinkles so deeply engrained they will never come out. The attached mock-turtleneck used to be white, and is now a grayish-tan shade best described as greige. Christmas can’t come unless I’m wearing it: in
- A tiny, rose pink, felt doll coat, currently tucked in the bottom of my sock drawer. Santa brought this for my baby doll when I was a very little girl. It’s my only childhood possession to survive growing up with 8 brothers and sisters: in
- Love letters I sent to my then-future husband, Bill, when work commitments kept us lovebirds many miles apart. He returned them to me with usage and grammatical errors corrected in red pencil: in
- A small rock and what appears to be a piece of straw (formerly a daffodil), both souvenirs of my trip to Ireland with my sister Lib: toss them in.
These are just a few of my prized possessions, along with pictures and videos, and I’m not going anywhere without them. They’re going on The Final Trip with me unless I get some assurances that this stuff will be treated with reverence after I’m gone (and by that I mean affidavits written in blood and notarized by a supreme court justice.)
Come to think of it, what if the ancient Egyptians got it right, and we need to bring everything we’ll need into The Great Beyond? I’ll want more than this sentimental stuff. If any of you happen to be at my funeral, please toss in some bags of Reese’s peanut butter cups, my Pink Floyd, Yes and Emerson, Lake and Palmer CDs, and a couple of cases of cheap Muscato, ok?
Be sure to check out the post about Elizabeth Taylor that inspired this one, by Harper Faulkner at the “All Write” blog. He’s a gifted writer as well as a good sport.