Went to a memorial today. While I don’t think anyone finds these things fun, it was especially hard because it affected Carlton.
I don’t have much to say, but just felt like I should write something. Today wasn’t a barrel of laughs, I didn’t feel well, and it’s all a little icky.
Good night.
Those are always hard. My stepdad died when I was 13, my dad when I was 19. It made me decide that I don’t want a funeral, and I want my wake to be an Irish wake.
I don’t want my corpse there (I want to be cremated), but some pictures from happy times would be good. I want my friends and family to share the good memories and stories of me over some good food and good beer, so that their last memories of me will be a good one shared instead of knots of sad people looking at my cemetary plot.