"A Tisket, A Tasket," I 'm Off To Buy My Casket

  

  

 

   My wife will soon depart for a "bucket list" trip to Africa.  She'll be on a safari in Tanzania.  Anita is interested in anthropology and photography.  I am not interested in being in close proximity to lions who can climb trees.  I have passed on the expedition.  Anita will be traveling with a National Geographic group.
  My brother and sister-in-law are currently on an Alaska cruise.  They have other relatives with them.  While these family members  are celebrating the joy of life's adventures, I will finish sorting my socks and then head to Iowa to purchase my casket.
   I am not ill.  I have not received a terminal diagnosis of any kind.  This will be a "pre-need" purchase.  It may be true, as the English essayist William Hazlitt observed, that "No young man believes he shall ever die," but every old man understands he must and he will.  "Ye know not the day nor the hour" but you can pick out the crate in advance.  In my case, the supplier in Iowa is:

   I learned about this option of choosing your final environment from my older sister who died in 2012.  She completed the whole transaction online from California before she passed.  When notified of your death, the Abbey ships your casket to the funeral home handling your arrangements.  It takes two days to arrive anywhere in the U. S.  At my sister's funeral Mass, I remember noting the casket and the conversation we had about her decision to take care of this need ahead of time.  It did remove one of the sad tasks that relatives often have to manage from scratch.  
   Because of geography, it's possible for me to visit the work place where the caskets are made in Iowa.  I'm looking forward to that--up close and personal.

 

 

 You can include an inscription to be carved on the casket, not only name and dates but an epitaph--even a poem.  I'll give it some thought and then settle on a dirty limerick.

   Casket choice is not ghoulish or macabre.  It is old school.  Enclosure in close but comfortable quarters that needs no maintenance.  Cremation dispenses with the package, and scatters remains instead of containing them.  While many make an ecological case for fire and ashes, I chose to loll in the loam.  At least traditional burial can boast a pleasant musical ditty that is beyond the reach of cremation.   Enjoy this tune (below) from my carefree childhood days.  It's called  "The Hearse Song."  I learned it at my mother's knee.   Wish me happy shopping!