When I think about death, I think more of technicalities rather than of the actual fact of departing this world. I have never understood why people would choose cremation over funerals, although there is some logic to it: mess-free, hassle-free, tears-free; burned and scattered and done with. I, on the other hand, want to be buried. I want to have a neat allotment on a green lawn somewhere under a weepy tree, with a nice marble gravestone and some touching epitaph. I want my children and grandchildren to come there as rostered a few times a year; I want fresh flowers every now and then, nicely mowed grass and some tears shed over my lovely soul. I want fancy funerals with white lilies and white orchids, with organ music playing and beautiful ladies in dark hats crying. I imagine it will be no less fun than my wedding! However, there is one condition under which I could consider cremation. I saw it in one book and I shamelessly steal it for my wish list. So if I happen to be a mean old lady with no children and no late spouses, I will not be buried. I will get cremated. However, I will see how many close friends I have - say, six. Then I will get six very pretty little containers, like ivory and rare wood; antique, gold encrusted and  valuable. I will get my ashes divided into exactly six portions, each packed into one of those containers and handed over to my friends. I would think of six places which would mean something for me and each of them, and in my will I'll require them to scatter my ashes in those places. For all the trouble they will get to keep a lovely container, which will go up in value overtime, and I will be spiritually present in some of my favourite places forever. Of course, it won't beat some good old-fashioned funeral and a serenity of a green graveyard, yet I am prepared to die lonesome now.