Buma, which is the nickname I've had for my mother's mother my entire life, will be cremated when she's finished her adventures are done. In a relatively ideal situation, she'll be the first to go, then my mother, who will also be cremated, then eventually myself. When they squabbled, which wasn't too often considering They both live on the same property, I always threatened to mix them both with cement and create a sculpture of one of them doing something terrible to the other. They scoffed at my version of it, but they didn't object to being used in a sculpture.
The most delightful aspect of their request is that ultimately, neither of them will have much sway over their final shape. Neither my mother nor grandmother have ever seemed all that bothered by the prospect of death. As far as their concerned, the body goes back and "they" go to heaven. Why should they get upset if their kin want to mold their remains, tempered with sand, powder, and small rocks?
This last week, I started reading a book of case studies that was recommended to me by a coworker. It seems she wants another weirdo to bounce off her reactions to the ideas in the book. I was warned. This is an easily dismissable subject. The interviews transcribed in the book are hypnosis sessions in which a psychologist's patients access and described the transition between this life and the previous (and further back in the soul's supposed cycle).
I appreciate how the book is organized. If any reader was to consume this book with an open mind or even an enthusiastic agreement with the content, the stages the author takes us through are in a necessary order for a layman to properly understand the dynamic of the doctor-patient relationship as well as the increasing layers the doctor reports to gain access to in the book.
I've made it just over half through and I'm enjoying the read. I have chosen to try to remain neutral in my belief of the theory being tested by the doctor. In fact, the book expresses great evidence to support the reality and believability of nearly every case the doctor explores. I want to believe that, in some form, we continue on and are given a chance to reflect on our mistakes, plan for the necessary improvements, and attempt life again in some other form, until graduation is attained.
IF I were to adopt the believe the matriarchs of my immediate and extended families, I'd subscribe to the idea that heaven is an experience where you get to remain content forever. I'm quite sure that a large part of my section of heaven would be a beefed up copy of Fair Oaks Boulevard Nursery.
I finally convinced Eagle Stout to pursue purchasing predator bugs for the garden. I mean ACTUALLY LEAVING THE HOUSE. Together. To run errands. As a team. WE DID IT!
I mean...when one of your errands is to spend an hour +/- dazed, overwhelmed, filled with joy, and enjoying fresh oxygen produced by a hearty and diverse inventory of plants...hell...I might have to stop writing to go back before they....nope. I just checked. They've closed for the day.
We got the bugs. THEN I re-researched what to do. I may have just wanted $10 on the ladybugs because they need food to wake up to tomorrow. Some people on forums and such report that they may return or at least beef up the local population. We'll see. We also got mantis eggs, which is so tantalizing! I can't wait to greet 100-200 tiny, hoppy, excited little mantids.
When I die, please let there be a heaven where there are several hundred species of plants nearby just starting their journey to a garden or yard nearby. A heaven filled with interesting or kitchy pottery and cloth planter bags. I want large rubber black tubs one might grow koi fish in. One might also fill one of these tubs with hot water to have a redneck hot tub (ME).
I want blooms and pollen all over and bees and insects too. In my heaven, and african violet is more than a cute pot with one flower and several soft leaves...wait, the flower wilted...and now there are brown leav....it's dead...IT'S BEEN FIVE MINUTES. African violets will thrive. I'll actually be able to help an orchid THRIVE! And I won't have to learn how to, which is something I should do but there are video games and school and work guys. I have priorities.
There will be at least one cat. Just like the cat I saw today. 'I'm not friendly, but I'm beautiful.' The cat transmits into your mind with it's movement. 'You wish.' Then the cat is gone, to be found later in the bisected wine barrell, napping. The cat will allow for the insects to thrive. We can all get along fine.
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