Arrangements

My uncle died Thursday, and his funeral was yesterday. We weren't close. Hell, me and my dad aren't close. Still, by all accounts he was a good guy and I felt I needed to go and show the colors of the lost branch of the Williams Family. So I went to the funeral and to the cemetery afterwards.

He was a churchgoing man, and the preacher knew him well. That always makes for a better funeral. Since that isn't likely to happen with me, here's how I want things done:

1. Play Anchored In Love by the Carter Family.
   
2. Let people talk about me. If they don't feel up to talking, have them write it down and let someone else read it. They don't have to say nice things, either. They just have to keep the focus where it belongs: on dearly departed me.
   
3. When you run out of people willing to talk about me, stop. This is not the opportunity for some hired preacher to make his pitch. Again, it's about me.
   
4. You can, however, let the hired preacher pray for my soul. It couldn't hurt.
   
5. Play Kermit Ruffins' version of Just a Closer Walk With Thee.
   
6. Go back to the house. Eat. Drink like your Irish. It what I would have wanted.
   
7. No trip to the cemetery. It's always too hot or too cold or too rainy or a waste of a good day.
   
8. Cremate me. Toss my ashes in the Mississippi River from Mud Island, so I can take a last leisurely trip to New Orleans and then on to the Gulf.