Some of you have written to me expressing your hopes that I will re-consider what I have written about my eventual death and waking.
You will be happy to know that my husband has decided the issue for me.
He’s decided that since he can pretty much do what he wants once I’m dead, he’ll subject me to a ten day public wake and then launch me off the Great South Bay of Long Island, Viking style, with all of my Bryn Terfel CD’s and DVD’s and Kiefer Sutherland DVD’s in tow…then he’ll toss a torch onto the raft and hoist a brew in my general direction as the tide carries me out and my remains flame on the horizon. “Memorable,” he said. “It forces you out into the public, and I get some shelf space back.”
Buster wondered if he could have my acoustic guitar.
Just in case you were worried that things were not getting back to normal, around here.
Great Irish Wake story here.
About Elizabeth Scalia
