None of us lives forever, but it's not every day you are told you have a terminal illness. When I was first diagnosed with ALS, my already twisted sense of humor became even more twisted -- dare I say gnarled, even misshapen -- as I sought to come to grips with Louise's intrusion into my life.
Not long after the diagnosis I started thinking about my "disposal," concluding (at the time) that I would likely be cremated. My ashes were to be housed in a large Ziploc bag, then placed in the Chanel shopping bag I've been saving since January 2007. I joked that I would stay with each daughter for four months throughout the year.
Understanding that the disposition of my remains as I outlined above is probably not in accordance with various state and local laws, and desiring at this point to donate my carc-ass to further ALS research, I hit upon a great notion: Lynne shall purchase a quantity of colored sand (preferably purple), fill small Ziploc bags with same, bring them in the Chanel shopping bag to the memorial service and there distribute them. My creative forward thinking is not appreciated by everyone, but Lynne chuckled and even offered a more twisted (and far superior) idea: she will distribute not little bags of colored sand, but individual straws of Pixie Stix! I very literally laughed out loud at her suggestion.
For the record, everybody attending my memorial service better have a smile on their face, a drink in their hand, and a funny story on their lips. Otherwise don't bother.
13 hours ago