All Saints' Day
It is All Saints Day today, a public holiday in many Catholic countries, when families will go and visit or have a picnic with their dead ancestors in the cemetery. This could be quite charming were it not for the fact that many cemeteries in countries like
I have no particular idea about whether I would like my body to be buried or cremated when I die. I know that all my grandparents, great uncles and great aunties have all been cremated, so it sort of makes sense to be cremated as well. However, I have always appreciated more a burial and most of the people I have known who have died in
If I would get buried I would not really want to be buried in a large wooden coffin, with metal grips and handles. The Muslim tradition of being buried in white sheets makes more appeal. Marc Almond refers to white satin, in When I Was A Young Man, a haunting folk funeral song – ‘he was all dressed in white satin’ he sings. Satin or cotton, I am not too bothered, but white is good.
I suppose one of the difficult issues of being buried is choosing one’s final resting place. At least when one is cremated, one’s ashes can be thrown to the wind, maybe in a wood, on top of a hill or mountain or on the beach, while the wind catches all the ash and spreads it around. In terms of a burial, one’s remains are going to stick around a long long time in the same place. I’d like to think of being laid to rest in some dark moist soil, full of worms and other such creatures, turning into compost and pushing up the daisies. I suppose the only other thing to be said here is that I’d like to be next to Fred, having spent most of my life with him (this event will be in five weeks time on 5th December – Sinterklaas, when I will be 46 years and 170 days, by which time I will have known Fred 23 years and 85 days)…
Anyway, I am not planning on going anywhere at the moment… just going home in the train from the office to
At least, my half day in
But for now, I can look forward to a nice evening at home with Fred, watching an hour-long episode of Eastenders where ginger-head Bradley is due to marry his seemingly ill-suited wife, the head-strong Stacey. How wrong is this going to turn out? Either it goes wrong and they don’t get married or they do get married and it goes wrong afterwards, the point being is that Stacey has been having a sexual affair with Bradley’s father, the slimey Max. Hmmmm….. And before that.... It Takes Two - the latest update on Strictly Come Dancing. I am rooting for Alesha, but I think Kelly might win.