Funeral wishes

Instructions are:

Whilst staying inside current legislation, I am to be borne from the place I take my last breath in a deer carcass tray (hanging in garage above the pigeon kit, I shall be likely moderately scrunched up) in my 90 to the nearest location of those what do stuff to make me not smell too much.

Funeral - no fcuking religion. Get on with it.

Music - whilst allez the furnace, the incomparable and gravitas laden Muppets Mananama song. SWMBO isn’t keen, I’ve told her I’ll come back and haunt her and her next beau, likely Stanley Tuchi having seen this weekend’s Times (checks six).

Wake - you can all fcuk off. Remember me for what I was (insert much profanity) And raise a glass as I would do you. I’ve seen how the vultures descend having buried both wrinklies and others, I still can’t believe how much respect some are willing to lose just to minesweep an M&S buffet. Cnuts. Those I love know it.

Ongoing - as I do for those departed who are in my heart, I spare a moment from time to time particularly when with a glass in my hand, smiling at the memories we shared. For those still on earth, perhaps you may do the same. One can ask for no more.
 
My Father went to an old friends funeral, a Quaker, and a very loving and generous man
he said they just sat in the hall in silence, then at times people got up and spoke about their friend
he said it was very moving


Personally I reckon this is the way to go

Passer by: "Whose err is that?"
2nd passer by "Ole blind lemon knife in the belly."
1st passer by "Ouch."
Whooping and a hollering commence.
 
And the first words at the wake will be "Ladies & gentlemen, thank yoiu for coming to Auld-Yin's wake, we appreciate it.
You'll had had your tea..." ;)

Call me a bluff old traditionalist, but the original "You'll have had your tea." would work better.
 

seat_sniffer2

Old-Salt
Bad news. Drax burns biomass.
Ah, I wondered why the house had given up shaking from the hundreds of tonnes of coal going past every hour. And I thought I'd gone deaf as well - hold on a sec, I am!
Oh well, it'll just have to be Mrs S_S2 using her weed burning wand on me in the garden. But not on a washing day, so's not to upset the neighbours.
 
D

Deleted 15653

Guest
I just want a bottle of Herforder, then my ashes, rammed into a Challenger breech, and fired off on HESH setting.
Towards the nearest NAAFI, if possible.
I read of a bloke who was a keen shooter. His family had his ashes added to a batch of shotgun shells and his friends spent the afternoon blasting away in his memory
 

Old Stab

LE
Book Reviewer
We were discussing funeral music last night.

The muppets. Mananama on the way in.

Darth Vader Empire march into the oven.

Prodigy. Firestarter, as everyone buggers off out.
 
....as bit of drifting...
Wifey was a widow when we met. She still had late ex's ashes. It wasn't a good marriage and he'd re-mortgaged the house, run up debts, cancelled insurances etc before dying of a heart attack! Anyway, after having Pete's ashes in the shed for a year or so she decided to take him home to Staithes and scatter him in the sea as he'd asked. A round trip of 600 miles from Wiltshire on one of the stormiest January days we'd seen for years. Police warnings don't travel etc etc. We set off early. Brilliant sunshine all the way despite seeing overturned lorries and uprooted trees on the way. I just drove steadily as one does and got to Staithes and on the little beach at 3:40. Wifey said this was for her to do alone and walked around the cove to scatter the ashes in to the sea at 3:50. Weirdly Pete had died at 3:50!!!! Anyway I watched her go round the cove and stood respectfully. Next thing a huge grey cloud appeared over the sea and cove and wifey appeared, like an extra from 9/11 covered in Pete. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was hilarious and after a second we wet ourselves laughing. Pete had his revenge. The moral of the story is, if you are scattering ashes, do it low down and be aware of the wind. Don't hold the tub as high as you can and turn it upside down because that way is the way of a Doris!
 
I read of a bloke who was a keen shooter. His family had his ashes added to a batch of shotgun shells and his friends spent the afternoon blasting away in his memory
That is brilliant.
Exactly the way he would have wanted it, a proper send off.
 

964ST

LE
We arranged my mums funeral with my old friends funeral parlour, he made sure that she was given a double tour of the town center in the hearse (which caused chaos! Inverness:)), he knew she liked getting her monies worth and being the center of attention :).
 
D

Deleted 15653

Guest
....as bit of drifting...
Wifey was a widow when we met. She still had late ex's ashes. It wasn't a good marriage and he'd re-mortgaged the house, run up debts, cancelled insurances etc before dying of a heart attack! Anyway, after having Pete's ashes in the shed for a year or so she decided to take him home to Staithes and scatter him in the sea as he'd asked. A round trip of 600 miles from Wiltshire on one of the stormiest January days we'd seen for years. Police warnings don't travel etc etc. We set off early. Brilliant sunshine all the way despite seeing overturned lorries and uprooted trees on the way. I just drove steadily as one does and got to Staithes and on the little beach at 3:40. Wifey said this was for her to do alone and walked around the cove to scatter the ashes in to the sea at 3:50. Weirdly Pete had died at 3:50!!!! Anyway I watched her go round the cove and stood respectfully. Next thing a huge grey cloud appeared over the sea and cove and wifey appeared, like an extra from 9/11 covered in Pete. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was hilarious and after a second we wet ourselves laughing. Pete had his revenge. The moral of the story is, if you are scattering ashes, do it low down and be aware of the wind. Don't hold the tub as high as you can and turn it upside down because that way is the way of a Doris!
Dad always said he wanted his ashes scattered from the top of Lose Hill in Derbyshire, his favourite walking spot. My brother and I walked up on a blustery but dry May morning, spread him round the path and the area then lifted a hip flask in his and our late brother's memory. Mum has already said that when the time comes she wants to join him.
 
I read of a bloke who was a keen shooter. His family had his ashes added to a batch of shotgun shells and his friends spent the afternoon blasting away in his memory
Hunter S Thompson walt.
Although Hunter’s ashes were put in a cannon and blasted skyward.
And Thompson shot himself. The massive show-off.
 

Dwarf

LE
....as bit of drifting...
Wifey was a widow when we met. She still had late ex's ashes. It wasn't a good marriage and he'd re-mortgaged the house, run up debts, cancelled insurances etc before dying of a heart attack! Anyway, after having Pete's ashes in the shed for a year or so she decided to take him home to Staithes and scatter him in the sea as he'd asked. A round trip of 600 miles from Wiltshire on one of the stormiest January days we'd seen for years. Police warnings don't travel etc etc. We set off early. Brilliant sunshine all the way despite seeing overturned lorries and uprooted trees on the way. I just drove steadily as one does and got to Staithes and on the little beach at 3:40. Wifey said this was for her to do alone and walked around the cove to scatter the ashes in to the sea at 3:50. Weirdly Pete had died at 3:50!!!! Anyway I watched her go round the cove and stood respectfully. Next thing a huge grey cloud appeared over the sea and cove and wifey appeared, like an extra from 9/11 covered in Pete. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was hilarious and after a second we wet ourselves laughing. Pete had his revenge. The moral of the story is, if you are scattering ashes, do it low down and be aware of the wind. Don't hold the tub as high as you can and turn it upside down because that way is the way of a Doris!
Not just the distaff side. When grandad went Dad, Bro and I drove down to his old house in Surrey. Took the ashes round to the back garden where there was a tennis court. (Yes he had money but between grandma and my mum spending none got down to me or Bro)

Anyway Dad unscrews tin and throws up ashes to fall onto the garden and bows his head to remember his father. Wind carries most of the contents into my face, hair and shirt. Cue a couple on minutes of silent spitting and frantic and brushing ashes from eyes, hair and everywhere while Dad remembered.

ALWAYS check wind.
 
A senior manager that I knew on Hillingdon Council suffered from heart problems and after several years, he decided on his doctors advice to retire. Norman was a genuinely nice bloke who would go out of his way to do you a favour if it was within his power to do so. He was very much missed when he left the Councils service.

He was also a keen amateur sailer and had a part share in a small yacht. Their favourite weekend activity was to sail across the channel to a French port and find a restaurant for a good lunch and then return back across the channel after a pleasant couple of hours eating the local food washed down with French wine and beer.

Whether Norman knew his health was worsening was debatable to his friends. He was a confirmed bachelor and very personable but he definitely wasn’t a complaining sort of bloke. He never complained about anything in life including his own health.

However on the return leg of one trip across the channel while somewhere halfway between the UK and France, Norman sadly suffered a heart attack and passed away.

I attended his funeral. He was cremated at Woking crematorium. His written will asked that his ashes be placed in the sea by his sailing chums on one of their trips across the channel to sample some French culinary delights and so, one weekend off they went.

There was a slight hiccup on the UK side as they were walking across the harbour to the boat. The person carrying Normans ashes in an urn tripped on the quayside and the urn with Norman inside it went tumbling across the harbour footpath spilling some of the contents on the ground as they went.

They quickly managed to scoop most of Norman back up into the urn and continued their quest. There were a few bits that had fallen into cracks in the pavement etc that they left because they couldn’t reach them but probably 99% of Norman was tipped into the English Channel somewhere midway between the UK and France.

Everybody laughed when they were told the story afterwards but one of the reasons that it was so funny was because if he were able to, Norman would have been laughing the loudest of all at what had happened to his ashes.

If you are ever in Hillingdon with an hour to spare for some reason, have a walk around the Norman Leddy memorial gardens in Hayes. They are near the Beck theatre. An oasis of peace and calm in a place not known for peacefulness.
 
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I once acceded to the wishes of a family we knew to scatter their dads ashes over place fell and ullswater from 3000 ft ,as he wanted to be permenantly in the landscape he enjoyed so much in life.
I hope he enjoyed being in the empennage of aeroplanes as well, as that’s where quite a bit of him ended up.( despite use of a pressure washer later!).
 
I want to be buried far out to sea, and everyone from Manchester to walk on my grave
 
My ashes in the Urn, will be placed under a marked patio slab, When anyone phones, herself can say truthfully that " He's in the garden, and can't come to the phone at the moment" ;)
 
Mate got killed skydiving in the '80s. Bit of a let down for him as his trip to the FBC in Quincy on the Herc was already booked.

Anyhow, his mates decided to take him along and he ended up as supernumerary pax in his urn. Quite a sociable crowd and T got taken everywhere with them and shown around. Fair bit of him ended up in the Herc flight deck when the lid was taken off to show him all the flashy light thingies and switches, and he was waved around near the air con outlets.

Also went on a few big formation jumps and spent a lot of time looking around with his lid off in bars and other places where beer was available. The odd slurp was added to his urn on occasion too. As these things happen, T was becoming quite slender and losing a fair bit of weight. To remedy this he was topped up from various ashtrays and the odd bit of pit gravel.

He eventually returned home and spent the next few years on his mom's mantelpiece AFAIK, until I lost track of the crowd.
 
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I once acceded to the wishes of a family we knew to scatter their dads ashes over place fell and ullswater from 3000 ft ,as he wanted to be permenantly in the landscape he enjoyed so much in life.
I hope he enjoyed being in the empennage of aeroplanes as well, as that’s where quite a bit of him ended up.( despite use of a pressure washer later!).
There’s a P-51 flying about with the old owners wife’s wedding ring melted down and added to the rudder weight and some of her ashes encased in the R/H elevator weight.
 

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