In the movie "Meet Joe Black", the characters say that death and taxes are the only things certain in this life. Death cannot be anymore real for me than last Saturday when my grandmother passed away. She was 86 years old.
As I met much "senior" relatives during the burial, it occured to me that I was not sure if I wanted to grow THAT old. I tried to envision myself 55 years from now. Granting that I'm still alive by then and not yet choked by the horrible air pollution of the 21st century, I would probably be a skinny shrivelled old lady in a purple dress. Do eyelashes fall off as you grow old? If not, I would probably still be curling my eyelashes. I hope my precious Shu Uemura eyelash curler is still surviving with me by then. Can I still walk when I'm super old? Or will I be maneuvering a wheel chair? Would I be wearing super thick eyeglasses? Would my hearing be impaired? Will my grandchildren talk super loudly at me so I can hear what they're saying to me? Would I have grandchildren? Would I have children of my own? Would I have a husband? Will he live as long as I do or would I be a widow? Would I be married? Will I have a great pension plan all paid up? Will I have a good insurance coverage?
Now the thing about a gathering of relatives you only see once or twice a year is that it would always raise the million dollar question. Remind me to make a shirt that says "No, I don't have a boyfriend." And since my lola was a DECS supervisor, I've met Mrs. Barroso, my English teacher back in high school, during the wake. And imagine how I got thrown off-guard when she asks me: "So who's the girlfriend of K_ now?" Uhh. Okaaay. Must I know the answer to that question? I managed to blurt out an "I don't know" and reasoned that we umm, haven't been in touch these past months. I just updated her about stuff I knew about my batchmates and highschool friends... where they are now, whether married or not, boyfriend of whom, working where, has a kid... stuff like that. I tried to spew out as much update as I can so as to elude prying questions about MY current sorry state. Hah!
Now thinking about my wake and death, I should make sure that a trusty kikay friend of mine would ensure that I won't look like roadkill inside my coffin. When she was alive, my lola had already made some sort of sister-pact with her friend -- whoever "went" first shall be responsible for the other's "coffin look". Hence, her friend even rearranged my lola's hair and ensured her eyebrows were drawn right. That kind of kikay stuff. So whoever will be my designated kikay friend, listen up: Curl my lashes, shape my brows (or draw natural-looking brows if I don't have any eyebrows by then), don't use super red lipstick coz it makes my lips look bigger... use a nude or pinkish brown shade, use lavender/purple eyeshadow, don't forget the cheek blush. And make sure my hair still looks fab.
I'm okay with cremation if it comes out less expensive than being buried. Either way, I'd want a lavender-tinged white coffin. And if I'm cremated, I'd be happy with a pink marble or pewter urn. During the wake, assuming every place is Wi-Fi'd by then, I would like a laptop set-up in one corner of the mortuary where the visitors would be able to read my blog posts and view my online photo galleries. That's gonna be one cool memoir :-)
And during my eulogy and/or burial, for goodness' sake, please don't sing a sappy Hindi Kita Malilimutan kind of song. How about Sarah McLachlan's "I Will Remember You" or Verve's "Bittersweet Symphony"?