Meanwhile, back in my native Finland, my sister and her husband took a course in "make your own casket" - that is true, I am not kidding. The community college offered the course and will store the caskets in the school attic until needed. There were only six participants and they were laughing and sharing memories while choosing designs and taking measurements. My great-grandfather was a good farmer and the village casket-maker too in his time.

In some African countries, the family and friends of the diseased one gather together the night before funeral with a huge pot of soup to share memories, the good and the bad, and the spirit of the dead one is said to be present. We did the same with my sisters before my father's funeral, and we laughed and cried, each one remembering the same thing a bit differently.

I read about an old woman who sent messages to family and friends around the world to attend her funeral. The turnout was great although the family got angry to see she was still alive. She explained that she would rather see them all one last time while alive and that they will not need to come to the funeral. Then they had a good party.

Recently I heard about a woman who knew she will die soon so she planned her own funeral. No black clothing or funeral flowers allowed. Everyone got a shot of brandy on arrival. The music was Elvis, Beatles and Sinatra and other golden oldies of her youth. The food was good and the party was wonderfully noisy with laughter and memories. None of that gloomy, sad ambiance for her. This was a celebration of her life and time to move on.

I should think of something similar and exciting or powerfully sad. Certainly no viewing of the diseased embalmed in the coffin. We don’t do that in Finland, and no sitting in the parlor quietly with tears and a few respectful words. In my father's funeral, his fiddler friends played his favorite music with tears on their cheeks, and we had a memorable feast for the whole village. I should think of a few variations although when my time comes, my family will surely do it their way (and it can be therapeutic) perhaps blending traditions of a few European countries from their various backgrounds of different cultures

It is liberating to think and talk about something so natural as dying. I saw Queen Latifah singing I’ll be seeing you at Oscars and it brought me to tears, it was beautifully sad. Or maybe some powerful Sibelius could be good…

Send me your favorite quotation. I collect them and have added several in my book.

We are always the same age inside. (Gertrude Stein)