Never Forget. Really, NEVER

Today's post is a real treat. Jessica Bern contemplates her mortality and lets us know what we should do if the unthinkable happens. I'm getting a little misty eyed just thinking about it!

Enjoy! And when you're done enjoying and leaving a comment, check out my post at Wendi's blog!

I get the Sunday New York Times every week and one of my favorite parts to read is the obituaries. I used to do it out of morbid curiosity but now that I am zooming towards death getting on in years, I treat them more like another version of Facebook, only here their daily status remains pretty much static.

The other day, one particular obituary caught my eye because this gentleman's last wishes were that there be no funeral, no memorial, nothing. He just wanted people to get on with their lives and every now and then send him a "shout out" just to let him know they were doing okay.

This, of course, got me thinking that perhaps there was no time better than the present to put in writing my last wishes, especially because I live in Los Angeles, a city where bad people drive good cars and think nothing of killing you or at least your career for the sole purpose of getting their child into an elite pre-school. That being said and without further ado, I present to you:

JESSICA'S FINAL WISHES

Right when you hear the news that I’m gone, it would be great if the first words out of your mouth were NONE because you are so shocked that a woman like me, with such a huge heart, so funny, no wait, I want funny first, no matter what you say about me, from the moment you are notified that I am deceased, “funny” must be the first adjective you use to describe me. Huge heart and incredible mother would be a good second and third, although I’ll let you decide in which order you’d like to say them. Probably best to use the “incredible mother” around my couple friends. The single ones would likely prefer and relate more to the “huge heart” factor, but again, it’s up to you. I don't want to seem controlling.

After the shock wears off, I say, let the tears begin. I would like feelings of immense sadness and loss to overcome you to the point where some of you might want to reconnect with your therapists to make a special appointment or if you already have one, move it up a day or two because, "this just can’t wait."

Breakdowns in the middle of places like Trader Joes or, even better, a new hip restaurant, would be so much appreciated, I can’t even begin to tell you, primarily because I'll no longer be here.

At the funeral, I would like the tears to continue and please, there is to be NO FAINTING ALLOWED. The only thing this would accomplish is your stealing focus and this is MY funeral and if there is one goal here, it is you must not ever lose sight of that.

Being a bit of a clotheshorse, what I'll be wearing is very important to me. In the Jewish religion, it is required that one be buried in a shroud. Being that I'm not a practicing Jew and the only reason I went to high holiday services this year was to find a nice Jewish boy who would sleep with me, I'm going to pass on the shroud and only ask that when dressing me you keep in mind that I'm an Autumn and I tend to feel very sexy whilst wearing one of my many sweater coats.

And finally, every MONTH until infinity, on the number of the day (ie: the 15th) that I left this planet, I would like all my closest friends, acquaintances and anyone I've ever spoken with, to gather together and once again share their fondest memories of me or at the very least, a general statement pertaining to the fact that the world will never be the same without me and then, before going off to live your lives, stand around and admire my enormous collection of stunning Nike workout gear.