A chunk of my life’s studies has been on death. The inevitability of death is awesome. I understand the deal: You are born, you will die. Not much of a deal but better than not being born.
What I’d like to know, and I am dead serious here: Why oh why oh why do people bother with embalming (a question hardly ever asked but brought, once more, to my attention just this minute)? I have stipulated in my will and testament, and told the Angel – poor sausage who will have to clear up after me – that I want to be discarded asap, not be drained and then pumped full with formaldehyde. The idea fills me with disgust. Once I am dead leave me alone. Please. Cardboard box. Lid on top. End of story.
To be continued….