Your Narcissistic Funeral
If you spend any time on your death at all, it’s likely of the organizational sort: buying a gravesite or picking out a headstone or pre-paying for a cherry-wood casket with hand sewn and pleated rosetan crepe interior (get the one with premium swing bars, for easy handling).
The fact is your funeral is the most narcissistic thing that could happen to you — and yet, you’re not even alive to even enjoy it.
If you’re like every other person on this planet, at some point in your life you’ve wondered just what will happen at your funeral. Will there be a procession of cars so long that it would totally jam up the Mass Pike? Will be crammed into of the funeral home, three-deep spilling out of the front doors, perched on their tippie-toes to see above the crowd? Maybe people will wave blue roses like they did at Margaret Thatcher’s death procession?
After your funeral, would people get super boozed, stand on a bar, raise a glass and sing Mr. Brightside for you?
Probably not. But I bet they’d say really nice things.
With reflection, what’s more important isn’t how many people show up at your funeral, but rather what’s said. And trumping that, isn’t what’s said but rather what people remember about what’s said.
Remembering is a difficult thing. You can rest assured, most of the speeches from your funeral will actually be forgotten, save for a few choice words or especially momentous outbursts.
Over time — because people will stop remembering exactly what’s said at your funeral —something else will fill the gap. Fortunately, we now live in an environment where there is an extraordinary capacity for that gap to get filled. Where? Well, it’s submitted (typically recklessly) via thousands of social media posts, iphone snaps, instagrams, snapchats and tweets.
The “Remembered You” is the footprint you leave in the digital realm.
What’s fascinating about that is while there’s never been more information about you available online, once you’re gone, compiling it is practically impossible. It’s spread out over dozens of social sites and it’s buried inside of 10,000 other photos sitting in “the cloud”. Oh yeah, technology is making it easier to find what you’re looking for. Sure, just tell your Aunt Edna to grab the photos using the latest facial recognition technology — she’ll know exactly what you’re talking about.
Your digital self is right there for everyone to see, but trying to cultivate it is a bit like shaking hands with smoke.
Before you die, there’s actually quite a bit you can do online to prepare for your final days. You can to set up wills and trusts (see Everplans or Willing), or configure your palliative or hospice wishes (Cake). You can even capture photos of your stuff that you’ll be giving to your bestie (the pre-launch Will It).
But once you’re done with the preparation, the focus should move to a grander perspective: how will You will be remembered and portrayed in the decades long after you’re gone.
People should continue to know your name, and who You were and what You cared about.
They should remember your kindness, your way with kids, your ability to fill a room with your energy.
They should always be able to go visit with You — not the You that is sitting beneath an 800 lb. granite block in the vast sea of other granite blocks, but the words and pictures that justify your spirit and your spirituality and your essence.
As for your casket, step it up a bit: make sure it’s end-capped with brass, has a locking system (in case you want to get out), a Poly Seal liner, and that it’s lacquered to present the wood’s natural texture, grain and luster.
