on death and making it lighter
I think about death just about every day. On this post, I'll write about death, but not in a Debbie Downer way, in my opinion, so stick around. You may even see a ceramic cock!—this will make sense in a bit.
I was watching the third episode of Rainn Wilson and the Geography of Bliss which takes place in Ghana. If you've never seen the show, it's about Rainn Wilson (yes, Dwight from The Office) travelling around the globe searching what makes certain societies happier than others. In this episode, he meets a man whose job I had no idea existed: he's a coffin designer. But not just any coffin; they make wooden coffins inspired by the work and/or life of the deceased. Ideally, you have to order these caskets while you're still alive, I guess so that they're ready for their big moment. And that made me reflect upon death, something I hadn't done today.
Death was never a taboo topic at home. I remember going to funerals from the time I was 10 years old or younger. And while I can't remember what it felt like, I remember that what made me feel anxious and uncomfortable was always the grief of the people who were attending the ceremony, and never the body of the deceased. Still, I hate funerals. Of course, I understand the grief and pain of losing a loved one, especially the ones who are closest to us. I've lost and attended the funerals of three great-grandparents (but I didn't like them that much, and I was young, so it just hurt to see the sadness of my mother), and I've also lost my maternal grandparents. I loved my grandfather and it hurt a lot to lose him when I was 12. After growing up, I realized he was surely a victim of undiagnosed PTSD from his time in the Portuguese Colonial War who physically abused my grandmother, thus scarring her, my mother and me for life. So, I've come to accept that I didn't actually love him. I just saw him as a different man than my father, who at the time wasn't as present in my life as he would've liked due to his work as a long-haul trucker.
Losing my grandmother was different, though. She had a shitty life, a husband who hurt her left, right and center and had to raise two kids. She was a warrior. So, when she got diagnosed with depression and later on with dementia and Alzheimer's at barely 60 years old, it felt like a punch to the gut. After a few years, we had to place her in a caring home. She got progressively worse, and now I see I was already mourning her. She spent two or three years in the nursing home before dying amidst the second wave of Covid in Portugal. I had spoken to her a week before and told her I would visit her as soon as they allowed visitors back in, but I never got the chance to do that, nor to say goodbye to her.
All this to say that death sucks and I want to ease the burden as much as possible for those who love me after I go, hopefully in a long time! That means setting up documents with important information: bank accounts, passwords et cetera, but I always wished to plan an entertaining funeral for myself. Portugal ranks third in the list of countries by antidepressant consumption. We have enough sadness and depression surrounding us, so I want to go out with a bang!
Without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to Caralho das Caldas (Caldas da Rainha ceramic cocks)—my dream custom-made casket! Here's a video where you can see all the amazing things they make with... cocks.
If someone who knows me reads this post before I die, please consider these to be my wishes: cock-shaped casket (I may take care of this, so check if I have it in storage) and my folk/pimba playlist in the background. I don't want a church memorial service. I'd like to be transformed into a tree, but please choose something that doesn't have any fruits, like a cork oak. If there's an afterlife, I'll haunt you if you turn me into a tree that allows people to eat pieces of me. Last but no least, do not wallow at the shame it is that I passed away shortly before turning 104 years old. I was born in 1997. I would rather not live in three centuries.
Just crack a few jokes, have a few drinks and let me rest in peace. God knows I'll need it if I live to that age without seeing Sporting CP winning a Champions League.