Flabbermouth # 3
I was not going to share this story with anyone to-day with Christmas so close, but I think it might be a positive thing. My friend Cheryl just called to tell me she is still laughing and doesn’t think she will stop anytime soon.
Cheryl came for a Christmas coffee this evening. She noticed the card I had from our vet with our late Cercie’s footprint on it. We started talking about our furry family members who had passed. We discussed how we felt they left us far too soon. I talked about my Cercie and she talked about her Wishbone. I teared up for a few moments, as I remembered how Cercie buried her weary head in my bosom, while the vet relieved her of her unbearable pain.
Cheryl asked, “Did you have her cremated to keep her?”
“No, we just had her paw print made. It is preserved on that plaque on the fireplace.”
She said, “I can handle anything, but cremation.” She added with a shudder, “I had to watch a movie on it for nursing and I found it far too hard to absorb.”
We talked about how she cannot be in the same room with ashes, even her own pets. I felt bad for her. I knew, by the look on her face that this was a very uncomfortable subject. Yet, I also could see it was something she wanted to share with me. Her husband and she had a heated discussion about their pet being cremated and she was afraid she was losing.
I remembered that once before she had told me, she and her hubby would be cremated when the time came. “Have you changed your mind?” I asked.
“No. It just creeps me out and I can’t help it.”
“Well,” I said, “Ron and I have our plans already. The fact we are being buried in a family plot dictates cremation.” I continued, “As a matter of fact, I told Ron that we should consider a plan I have.”
“What is that?” Cheryl asked.
“I think we should be buried in the same Urn, at the same time.”
“How would that work?” She questioned with a frown.
“Well whoever goes first would be kept in the Urn until the other passes.” I continued with, “Then, when the other one goes we would be put in the same urn together.”
Flabbermouth striking again said, “The only thing I ask is that no one shakes us up. I don’t want something stuck in my mouth that should not be there, especially for eternity.”
Cheryl started to laugh so hard, she was snorting. “Oh my gawd,” She cried through her snorts. “Chris, only you could take something I am afraid of and make me see it in a whole new light.” Hunched over with a stitch in her side and through tears, she repeated, “I am so happy I came for coffee tonight, I just hope I can drive home without the car shaking.”
The phone rang disrupting the moment. Her hubby wanted her to go pick up her kids at soccer and go home. She could not even talk to him she was laughing so hard.
“Yep she is on her way,” I told him.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Absolutely, alright.” I replied
As I said in the beginning of this story, Cheryl just called. She wanted to tell me she may never fear cremation again, but the vision I left in her head is disturbing to say the least. My last words to her before I hung up, “And you thought the Kama Sutra left images.” She started to laugh again and I could hear her snorting between, “Only you Chris, only you.”
“Good night, Cheryl.”