I know a lot of people think this is truly morbid thinking, but please stop and think about the gift this would be to the person who is going to have to agonize over wondering what you would have wanted in these situations if you don't tell him or her. There's enough emotional stress for that person just doing what they have to do, much less adding the stress of "I wonder if I did the right thing, or "what he or she would have wanted" on top of it all.
My wish for:
You can order this document at www.agingwithdignity.org. I ordered enough for my whole family. Now getting them to fill it out is another matter entirely.
And now for something completely different, and very, very interesting conceptually. Perhaps you want a "virtual pastor" to preside over your funeral.
I met Steve Nelson at Helios for breakfast, where we both lusted after Brian as he took our orders and just generally existed around the place.
As always, we had great conversation about a lot of things in life. His "new townhouse community" continues to have a cast of interesting characters, including the one named Travis who is straight, but sounds like a metrosexual at best. Steve wants me to come to one of their "impromptu block parties" one time to "assess the situation." Could be fun.
I stopped by the flea market to look for a bench today only to confirm what I already know. I hate, hate, hate shopping. People have so much shit.
While walking around there, I found myself wondering, "Do we really need department stores with new stuff in it? There is so much stuff that can be 're-used' in the world. One man's junk is another man's treasure, no?"
Dancing was a lot of fun tonight. We stayed afterwards, and we mostly hung out with the dancing crowd and drank way too much.
Bill and I got to laughing so long and so hard at one point that he said, "My cheeks hurt from laughing so much," which of course, just cracked us up even more.
Bless (the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost) our mess.