Planning ahead, just in case

Hey kids! As I write this, my birthday is in a few days; by the time you read it, my birthday will have been a few days ago. Yay me! I am 48-freaking-years old.

I remember being in my teens and twenties and just knowing that I would be dead by now — live hard and fast and leave a beautiful corpse. Well, that time has passed. The day I die, whenever that may be — hopefully about 40 to 50 years from now — I can honestly say I freaking lived.

Today we found out that a friend of my husband passed away from cancer. I didn’t know him at all, but still, you just hate to hear something like that. So, me getting older and hearing so much about death today has me thinking.

Death is the real BIG D! I hope that writing about it doesn’t put a bullseye on me. But I don’t think I’m that superstitious. I figure after I die, someone will probably find this article and repost it. Hopefully, like I said, that will be years from now and not, like, next week.
Maybe I am that superstitious.

So, let’s say I died. First of all, if you didn’t like me when I was alive, don’t act like you care about me now that I am dead. Just bite your tongue when you start seeing all of the sad posts about me. I probably didn’t like you either, but I forgive you for being a bad judge of character.

I should start planning my funeral now, so that I get what I want. For the record, this is how I would like it to go: I don’t want my services held in a church, led by a preacher that did not know me. I hate that. I want to be cremated or freeze-dried or used as fertilizer for a tree or something that grows. I’d be okay being shot into space or being turned into a diamond to live eternity like I lived my life: slightly tacky.

Mix my ashes with the ashes of my dead pets, and sprinkle us all in the air and ocean at Cape Elizabeth in Maine, which is one of my favorite places on this planet. Use my death as an excuse for a vacation. While mourning my death, I’m sure you will all need a few days off work anyway, so you better do something awesome.

At my memorial or service or whatever you have, have a large screen television above my urn/seed pod/wax figure — whatever you choose. On that TV, I want you to play a video of me saying, “If you are watching this, I must be dead!” That is just fucking funny to me.
Of course, I want a horribly cheesy montage of pictures of me with all of my friends and family, but mostly of just me. I want some of the standard songs playing — Garth Brooks’ “The Dance,” LeAnne Rimes’ “How Do I Live,” Celine’s “My Heart Will Go On,” — you know, the drag standards. But also throw in “Carry on My Wayward Son” by Kansas and “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith.
Then right in the middle of all crybaby songs, I want you to play the cussing song I do in the show: “fuck Hell Shit Damn Shit Fuck Shit.” Ya know, to break up the sad songs. Laughter through tears— I mean, if you don’t cry then laugh, were we even friends?

DO NOT, and I repeat, DO NOT do a balloon release. I know it is beautiful and all, but I hate the thought of some poor bird or turtle getting hurt because ya’ll wanted to remember me. I’d rather you all go to the Fort Worth Botanical Garden and find the Japanese garden and feed the turtles. Then if you see a dragonfly, it will be me — not in the cool way you are thinking; more like I will be a ghost, and I possess the dragonfly to do my bidding, and I will try to bite you or possibly pee on you.

I would prefer to not be embalmed. Plus, I don’t want anybody to see my dead body. I’m not there anymore, so don’t bother. I hate seeing someone after they are dead; I will forever have that memory of seeing their dead body. I don’t want anyone to remember me like that.
My mother says she will absolutely have to see my dead body if I die before her. I guess she can see me like that; she’s stubborn. Plus, she is my Momma, so — you know.

Honestly, once I am gone, I am gone. Do whatever you all need to get through it. If my husband wants me to be buried so he can be buried next to me, do it. He is the only one in this world that can change any of this, and if anyone tries to get in his way, I will find a way to get you back — haunting, possession, poltergeist, hell, even reincarnation! I will find a way to get you back. I can be petty AF.
In all seriousness, if I died tomorrow, I was so lucky to have the life I lived. I found true love, and it shaped everything about me. Being gay was a blessing. I never felt normal, and I never wanted normal. I wanted extraordinary, and I got it. I found happiness in all of its fleeting glory. I found the most joy in just being content. I don’t know if I got everything I wanted out of life, but I know I got more than I expected.

If I was murdered, AVENGE ME! If I died in my sleep, check again — I can be a heavy sleeper. If I died horribly in some gruesome way, then my dreams were correct, dammit! If I died of natural causes in my old age — WOW! Who saw that coming?

However I go, just know I loved you, and I was lucky to have been a part of your life. Except you Loraine, you can fuck off.

Remember to always love more, bitch less and be fabulous! XOXO, Cassie Nova