The Scott Shaw Blog Be Positive

When I'm Dead

Do you ever think about what you want to happen to your body when you die? For most, they are so lost into living that they never think about that kind of thing. That’s good. Why should they?

I know my parents planned for the future. …Their future demise. They bought their gravesites at a cemetery in Inglewood and all that. My father was planted there—long before I imagine he anticipated that moment would occur. My mother never made it that far, however. She died near one of my distant cousins in the AZ and I wasn’t informed until far after the fact. What happened to her body, I will never know? The woman, my distant cousin, was, (how can I say this nicely), far from truthful. My mother had another family gravesite waiting for her back in her hometown in the midwest, in amongst all of her close relatives, as well. Also empty and unused.

I guess it’s a good thing, planning for your demise. My father and other relatives had their gravesites and their funeral expenses all paid for before they died. When my mother-in-law passed away last year from COVID-19 it was a big surprise that she had an insurance policy that covered all the expenses. Good gesture, I think. It saves the grieving from worrying about all that—the who’s going to pay for what, etc…

Near the end of my Zen Filmmaking brother, Donald G. Jackson’s life, (as he was one of those people who was warned by the doctors that the end was approaching fast), he got all obsessed with visiting the graves of those people he admired. He would drag me to cemeteries all the time searching for the gravesites of this person or that. Weird…

I hear people like to go and fuck on the grave of Jim Morrison in Paris. I’ve spent a lot of time in Paris but I’ve never gone to his gravesite. I’m all about living as long as you can live. I love living. I love the living. Then, once a person has moved on they have moved on. Let them go. Though what they have created may live on for eternity, the dead are dead. Why go and visit their grave?

I don’t have a gravesite waiting for me or anything like that. Though I suppose I could lay claim to the two awaiting my mother. But, that’s just not me. No funeral. No open casket ceremony. No preacher speaking what preachers do at a funeral. No teary eyed gatherings. No mourners shoveling the dirt, one-by-one, on top of my way too expensive coffin that no-one will ever see again. No sticking flowers into the little hole thing at the base of every tombstone. I’ll just be cremated and tossed into the ocean. That way, if you ever want to come and visit me or if you want to fuck on my grave all you have to do is dive into the divine mother ocean. There I will be. Then, but not now… I still have way too much life to live. Happy