|'We'll meet again' - trouble is I don't know where|
My thanks to Father EW (EF Pastor Emeritus) for his post that prodded me to contemplate planning my funeral Mass.
It's a good exercise (especially after one reaches....you know.....that certain age.....the old coronary age when you find yourself making perfect acts of contrition every few minutes of the day).
So, having given the subject some extremely serious thought I have produced my checklist for the big day.
Here it is.......
1. I want everyone attending to wear colourful dress, no black, and that goes for the President of the Assembly also
2. My coffin must be bio degradable, eco friendly and from a fairtrade source, preferably made of
reconstituted yoghurt cartons
3. No organ music whatsoever; guitars, skiffle boards and Tibetan nose flutes with the odd tambourine - perfect!
4. Hymns are out, just too dirgey. I want lots of good, fun songs (with the exception of Johnny Cash
singing 'I fell into a burning ring of fire'). If we must go down the religious route then 'Shine, Jesus Shine' will do nicely.
5. Perhaps some of my good friends would like to do a reading; you know, 'stop all the clocks, shoot all the dogs' that sort of
6. I would really like my coffin adorned with items that mean so much to me. My hamster wheel and my membership badge of the
7. The funeral cortege to be led by my hamster, Vinnie with my faithful, if slightly savage, Belfast Terrier, Tommy, bringing up the rear.
8. My coffin to be draped in the regalia of The Royal and Ancient Order of Bullfrogs
9. Nuns from the Society of the Slightly Insane (Discalced Primarks) to provide a liturgical dance at key moments during the Mass
10. Oops, nearly forgot, no Latin whatsoever, dim Latin, nought Latiney, zilch Latino (I can speak American, see?). Instead it would be nice if I could have Hindi throughout plus, of course, a bit of Arabic
You see? It will not be an occasion of mourning (far from it in some quarters).
It will be more a memory of all the good times we had together, a sort of celebration of my life which, by then will have been totally worthless.
Other than the small service I was able to provide to my Lord and Saviour.
Does that sound too Catholicky?