“So what do you want me to do with you when you die?” My
daughter looked worried about the prospect of having Mom-on-the-mantle forever
because we hadn’t discussed this delicate issue.
Assuming I’d be cremated, I said, “You could plant me. Plant
a tree and rim it with me.”
At first she liked this idea but then her countenance
quickly clouded. “But then I couldn’t ever move—unless it was an indoor
tree—and it didn’t die.”
I could see her point. No kid wants to be guilty of
abandoning the parents they love, even though it’s just their ashes.
