... playing tag with Death- you're it!...

Lucretia at Lucretia’s Reflection tagged me in her post Thoughts on Death, Part 1: Death Tag. The post was in mid-May and I promise that I haven’t been ignoring her. It’s just that I didn’t want to take the questions too lightly; I may have also been practicing a healthy dose of avoidance. It's probably important to know that I LOVE (no, I'm serious) filling out surveys, questionnaires, ridiculous Facebook tags... all of it.

Whenever I see “Tag”, I imagine Freeze-Tag when you’re kids chasing one another and running from the person who is “It”. What kind of metaphor is that for life?!? Regardless, I always enjoyed running like a banshee. In my post “...heading home to a forbidden graveyard...” I actually show readers where I used to play freeze-tag. That large tree in the post was our base. I cannot imagine how many times my little hands touched that tree, nor can I recall how many times my body slammed into it.

For this post, I like to think of Death personified. You know the Grim Reaper with a large scythe and cloaked in a black robe with a hood. He’s the one with whom I’m playing tag; and, well, Death is trying to make me *It*. Fortunately, that damn robe makes him trip often so he hasn’t caught me yet.  

There are seven basic questions for the Death Tag. Since I’ve set up this little scenario with Death playing tag, I’m going to make him the interviewer too. Humor me. Imagine for a moment that Death and I are playing freeze-tag. He trips on his robe and is trying to catch his breath. While resting his arm up against that old tree and holding his chest, he asks:

Death:  How would you like to die?

Me: I wouldn’t but then I do not want to live forever either. I suppose I would prefer to die in my sleep or doing something incredibly fun as long as that doesn’t cause my loved ones any extra anguish.

Death:  What would happen to your blog?

Me: It would be the least of anyone’s worries.

Death: Who will you leave money to?

Me: If my husband has passed as well, everything goes to my brother; after that, it all goes to my university.

Death:  What happens to your body after you pass?

Me: It begins to decompose right before it is taken to the crematorium. Of course, my fella keeps saying that he wants us “to be bones together” so we shall see. I’m terribly claustrophobic and somewhat taphophobic (afraid of being buried alive) so we shall see. Or rather, I’ll be dead so who knows!

Death:  What do you want your funeral to be like?

Me: When I was in high school and burying so many of my friends, those of us who were still alive planned elaborate funerals with seating charts and outfit plans. Today, there isn’t anything planned because it seems that most folks just do not attend funerals anymore. I know some people say that they’d prefer their funerals to be like parties but as an introvert who is easily assaulted by noise I think a nice intimate affair with perhaps a poetry reading and some adult beverages would be nice. And for heaven’s sake, no one needs to go on and on about how kind or nice I was. That happened at one of my snarkiest friend’s funeral and another friend and I nearly fell out of our seats laughing. She was a mean girl! We loved her but going on about how sweet she was made me question if I was in the right location.

Death:  What will you miss the most that still exists after death?

Me: Everything! The sound of my husband; sunrises; my garden; walks on cobblestones; the ocean; hummingbirds; crows; this Dark & Stormy I’m sipping; hugs from friends who mean it; learning; olives; cheese; the smell of libraries; reading….

Death:  How will you want to be remembered?

Me: That’s an easy one. I want to be remembered as a great educator. I think that is the number one thing I am good at.

Just then, Death sprints towards me. I maneuver around the headstones in the graveyard. He trips on a tree root while I get away safely.

Now, while Death catches his breath, would you like to play Death Tag?