A few months ago I watched the documentary A Family Undertaking. You know the growing trend for home births? Well, it's kind of like that, except about death. Netflix describes the film as:
Before the Civil War, preparing the dead for burial and funeral rites generally fell to friends and family members of the deceased. The 20th century saw the rise of the professional undertaker, a trend that changed American attitudes toward death and distanced grievers from their loved ones. This eye-opening film uncovers a growing movement advocating a return to a more traditional, personal approach to honoring the dead.
Afterwards, I decided to reiterate my last wishes to my husband. Basically, that I wanted to be cremated. Have my ashes scattered some place beautiful. No autopsy. And if he could, to please walk me to the door of the cremation furnace.
It was kind of a heavy conversation. I took great care choosing my words and occasionally had to pause to let my thoughts form in my head before I was able to get them out of my mouth. But as my requests came to a conclusion, Erik was quickly able to sum up the whole of my desires.
"I got it" he said, "I'll take you to a volcano and push you in."