After I die, everyone have a drink to my memory, smile, think of some favor I did or joke I told. In other words, appreciate me.
And, please, on some long weekend, crack open one of my books and enjoy it with my spirit. Find a scene, character or phrase you like. Smile.
I would like to be cremated. I’d really like if my ashes (it’s more like grit) be glued into 50 model railroad gondola freight cars (I’ll look just like gravel or cinders). Have someone take me to a train swap meet and price me to move. That way I can be on all sorts of layouts and enjoy riding around.
On the subject of ashes, keep a couple handfuls of me around. Go and find some of those ex-bosses of mine. “Spacely” comes to mind. Go up to him in public, say a friend sends his regards, then toss me into his face. To be less confrontational, just slip me into his soup so I can be a kidney stone.
As far as revenge from beyond goes, there is also the thought that if my demise is due to a distracted motorist, please take $10,000 of my savings and commission a thug to find this person. Break their nose, kneecaps, thighs, whatever. I want them to remember me, painfully, every time there is a change to the weather (think that’s cruel? Think what my last moments were like).
I once saw a woman excuse herself to the speakers of Speakers’ Corner in London so she could spread someone’s ashes in the place he loved to go. We gave his swirling dust an applause. I’ve my own memories of Speakers’ Corner – I didn’t soapbox but I did have an educational debate with another onlooker, one which attracted a crowd. Goodness, did I look clever. So, yeah, cropdust some of me there, too.
If you don’t care for my own books, read any of the fine novels I’ve listed on my site. If you want my favorite of all time, go HERE.
Overall, if you wish to honor me, do good deeds, open doors, ride bikes, adopt animals and make the world a better, greener, more civilized place.