Since our parents died at relatively young ages, my sister and I cannot help but be prematurely fixated on death. Not to a morbid degree or anything, but we’ve discussed our wishes for the inevitable. She knows which pastor I want to officiate at my funeral, that I want to be cremated, and that any donations made in my honor should be given to some kind of African charity.
We’re close, but, as someone who’s elevated being a chronic screw-up to an art form, I have unduly burdened her in many ways. Since she will almost surely outlive me, I’ve been thinking of ways to lessen her grief at my passing. I think I’m going to make her promise to personally spread my ashes atop Mt. Everest (Mt. Kilimanjaro would also be acceptable).
As she made the trek, I’m sure she’d be thinking bitter thoughts like, “That fucking asshole!” and “What a vain SOB!” In other words, she won’t miss me at all by the end of the expedition.
And if she doesn’t make it, we’ll be reunited in short order.