By Pattie Mihalik

newsgirl@comcast.net

Today I did something that proved to be a bit more of a mental challenge than I thought it would.

After years of procrastination, I finally kept my promise to myself and went to a funeral home to make my final arrangements.

If you don’t like to think about death — if you live in denial about this basic fact — perhaps you should stop reading now.

But if you care about giving your family the ultimate last gift, read on.

For a while now I’ve been making an estate plan that includes my final wishes. I put in writing that I wanted a funeral Mass here in Florida but wanted to be buried in the Shamokin cemetery where I once played as a child.

My church in the Pennsylvania community where I grew up always had a yearly picnic in a tree-shaded area next to the parish cemetery. While the adults socialized, the kids played next to the cemetery, so I grew up liking that cemetery.

Over the years I had to make many trips to the cemetery as I buried loved ones. There came a time when I realized my husband and I needed to buy our own cemetery lots there.

Andy didn’t go with me to pick out lots.

“Why are you doing this? Do you think I’m going to die?” he asked.

“We all are,” I reminded him. “And we need to make it a bit easier for our kids by making some arrangements now.”

He sat in the car while I chose a scenic area under a shady oak for our final resting place. Begrudgingly, Andy looked at the lot and said it was fine.

When I moved to Florida I realized my daughters wouldn’t know if I wanted my final arrangements to be in Florida or Pennsylvania.

So I put my wishes on paper and included it with my estate plan. But there was one important part I didn’t do.

I didn’t make those arrangements with the funeral home I decided on. I kept saying I would get around to it “someday.”

Finally, I decided it was “someday.”

It felt like just another piece of business I had to do when I met with the funeral director. I made my wishes known, solved the complication of having two states involved, and had all my questions answered satisfactorily.

It didn’t feel like a routine transaction when I picked out a casket. It was more than a bit strange, but I knew I had to do it because of what I had witnessed when my stepmother died.

I went with my sister Maryann as she was forced to complete funeral arrangements for her mother. In plain words, Maryann was an emotional mess. We all know how heart-wrenching it is to bury a beloved mother.

The funeral director took advantage of Maryann’s grief by saying, “I know you want the very best for Mommy.” He actually kept saying Mommy as he led Maryann to the most expensive casket in the place as well as an expensive gown that Maryann’s mother would never have worn in her life.

I must stress that guy wasn’t representative of most funeral homes. He was a salesman, not someone helping a grieving person through a painful process. Every other funeral director with whom I have had contact in Pennsylvania is extraordinary, much more helpful and than those I have encountered in Florida.

One funeral director with whom I first met here in Florida was even worse than the one I experienced with my sister. I walked out and picked a different one that turned out to be thousands of dollars less than the first one.

That director told me some funeral homes are part of a corporation where the emphasis is on the bottom line. Employees are, indeed, salesmen. Fortunately, most local funeral homes are family run.

As parents, we all want to help our kids, regardless of their age. Making our own arrangements is a significant way of helping.

When I told my daughters what I did, my younger daughter said, “Oh, how depressing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

My older daughter thanked me, saying when I pass away she won’t be able to stand, much less go through more trauma with doing funeral plans.

“Every caring parent should make that last gift to their children,” she said.

Now that I finished that unpleasant task, I’m putting my papers in an envelope for when time that my daughters need it.

Meanwhile, I’m going on to life-affirming things.

I’m going to go to dinner with favorite friends.

I’m going to savor each spoonful of a hot fudge sundae.

I’m going to admire the clouds overhead as I swim in my pool.

When it storms I’m going to sit safely under the covered lanai, watching the lightning and thunder.

I’m going to watch the beautiful family of cardinals as they fly in and out of my yard, feasting on sunflower seeds and thrilling me with their brilliant splash of red.

I’m going to take my bike to the trail along the bay, stopping to sit and admire the view.

Most of all, I’m going to think about how precious life is and I’m going to cherish every day.

To everything there is a season.

This is my season to relish life.

Contact Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net.