I’m dead now. Shortly before my death, I had been very much inspired by Tom Petty’s song, Wildflowers, and had requested in an emotional moment of reflection that my family honor me by placing my remains in a field of beautiful wildflowers. After calling the request “stupid,” “lame,” and “fucking pathetic,” they agreed to sprinkle my ashes in a field near my town’s park. Shortly after I died, my body laid untouched and ignored by my family who I was fairly certain thought I was taking a nap. It wasn’t until my body began to decompose that my wife realized what was happening. Even after discovering that I had died, she still found reason to yell at me. While dialing 911, she looked at my deceased body and said, “I hope you’re happy, now I have to buy a new couch.” She showed me no remorse whatsoever and my lifeless body had to take yet another verbal shellacking.
My wife, daughter and son held (against their will) a very private memorial for me. However, they refused to cremate me first and instead decided to display my body in front of the guests. My body was displayed on a church pew with the same clothes I had been wearing the day I died, which just happened to be an old Aerosmith shirt, brief underwear and a pair of black tube socks. They didn’t even face me right side up, but instead had me facing down with my arms placed at my side. My wife had taken off my wedding ring and pawned it to pay for the memorial. I had specifically requested Frank Sinatra music played at the service, but of course my wife let her new boyfriend pick out the music. Yes, she brought her new boyfriend to my memorial. He played a Buckcherry playlist at full volume. “Crazy Bitch” played fourteen times in less than two hours.
I was always hopeful that since I had been a veteran teacher that a plethora of students and fellow co-workers would attend my service. Out of the hundreds of students I had taught over the years, only two showed up. One student, Olivia, came and snapped pictures of my body to be displayed later in the girl’s locker room and mocked for years to come. The other student, Brian, showed up and clipped my toenails for what he told my wife was a “special project” he was working on. No teachers came, but my principle made an appearance and hit on my wife for a little bit. My sisters and mother came about an hour late, bitched about the restaurant choices in town and then left and drove to Olive Garden to “celebrate.” The cremator discussed cremating options with my wife. My wife decided on the cheapest option, which wasn’t really an option at all. She had her boyfriend burn my body in a fire pit behind his barn. So, my body was officially cremated in a fire pit, next to three Kodiak cans, a Miller Lite bottle and roughly forty-five pumpkin seeds.
Forgetting about my ashes for three weeks, my wife and kids finally came out to the fire pit and scooped up my ashes. By this time it had been thoroughly mixed with a ton of cat shit, for a local cat had turned my ashes into his personal liter box. They placed my ashes in a used Doritos bag and headed to the field of wildflowers. They complained about the task the entire car ride and my son even considered “accidentally” dropping the bag out the car window. Thankfully he didn’t and they actually went to the park like I had requested. They walked fifty yards into the field and turned the bag upside down, leaving my ashes in a pile deep within the wildflowers. They didn’t say goodbye, but instead decided to get home quickly so they could sell my belongings on Craigslist. Even in the afterlife, I could still feel the pain of not being loved by the one’s I had loved so much. However, I had finally come to rest in a place I had come to fantasize about. I hummed Tom Petty to myself and was finally at peace. My soul had reached a state of rest and I was ready to let go and find my place in the cosmos. Unfortunately my peace would be short lived.
Later that evening a pack of squirrels came to my ashes and sifted through them in search of leftover Doritos. They were very aggressive and trampled my ashes down into the soil. They were eventually scared away by an elderly couple who laid down next to me and had intense intercourse for almost three hours. I saw things that evening I didn’t know existed and I even began questioning the existence of God. Just when I had shaken off the sexual intercourse incident, two men approached my area in the wildflowers and began to dig a hole. They never spoke a word to one another, but dug with a purpose as if they had done it before. They then proceeded to drop a dead body into the hole. The body was inside a black bag so I couldn’t see who it was or what had happened to them. They filled in the hole with dirt and threw some brush over the area to make it blend in with the local vegetation. Before they left the two men also decided to have intercourse and again, I was forced to see things I didn’t want to see. Fortunately, they were all business and were done within a minute. It was almost morning by now and I could start to see the sun rising over the horizon. Finally, it was peaceful. Suddenly, a small bunny hopped over to my ashes and rubbed his ears with his paws. It was so pleasant and so cute. It made me happy and I thought that this moment would be the time I would finally enter my resting place in heaven. But it wasn’t, because a giant raccoon viciously destroyed that cute bunny and ate him in front of me until there was nothing left except for a little piece of ear fuzz. The raccoon vomited a little bit and then left the area in search for more food. I stared at that fuzz all day, asking myself why God was punishing me.
I was pretty shook and had trouble focusing on my meditation. I spent days praying and hoping to be left alone. Just when I thought things were about to get better, something horrible would happen. I had search teams ruffling through the wildflowers, probably looking for that dead body. I saw teenagers come through smoking cigarettes and complaining about their parents. And I saw a lot more intercourse from both humans and animals. It was destroying my chi. That’s about the time I heard the lawn mowers. A group of lawn mowers began cutting down my beautiful wildflowers. The men working the mowers discussed the building project that was to take place on the property. Apparently, the town had decided to boost the local economy by allowing the construction of a new sewage treatment plant. In other words, they were going to build a sewage plant on top of my field of wildflowers. I was now going to rest for eternity underneath human shit. At that point, I closed my ashy eyes and tried to completely let go.