The wake* for my great uncle is today. As I (very briefly) reflected on matters of life and death today I realized that when I die, it’d better not be around this time of year. I’m pretty sure that no one would show up to my funeral if it were held on April 1; they’d all just assume it was a big ol’ joke.
Or maybe I should be buried on April 1. Last laugh on me, as they say.
No, seriously. I joke, but rest in peace, uncle Wil.
*I think technically it’s being called a “viewing,” but I do so hate that term. It implies that people are just going to be filing in the funeral home to gawk at your cold, dead body for one last time…
Actually, it’s my understanding that this is exactly what’s going to happen, so I guess the term is appropriate. If this was the Irish side of the family, there’d be more revelry; these things are more like a social gathering with a lot of alcohol, and oh hey – Uncle So-and-So just happens to be dead in a box in the corner. Just like old times! Uncle So-and-So could never told his liquor!