When I die

When I die, I do not want people to view me cold an stiff in a velvet lined coffin. I do not want this memory of me to be cast upon their mental collage of me. I would rather they remember me in smiling times, in times of laughter and joy. Happy times fun times. If people gather in my memory. Let them think on me in life, not in stiff repose, chalky makeup masking death in more dreadful countenance. Remember me with dance and song and laughter alive, in rosy health and sparkling eye.

This entry was published on November 3, 2012 at 7:10 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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