I’m going to make a guest list for my funeral, that way people I don’t want to show up can’t waltz in and pretend to have been my friend or some long lost family member. Normally, I don’t believe in the the velvet rope but I have to make an exception in this case. There are just some people you don’t want to give the satisfaction of seeing your corpse before they remove the bones so they can be bleached, dressed in a top hat and and posed at the entrance of your children’s daycare center.
And, since it is a well known fact that I’d like to be consumed at my wake or (at the very least) have my ashes smoked by my inner circle, there isn’t enough to go around for every random person that shows up. There might not be enough to go around anyway. Hoards of people you haven’t seen in a long time always seem to randomly show up for funerals. Sometimes these are people nobody else claims to know that had a pretty minimal connection to the deceased. I see that all the time; some weepy nonentity recounting, in great detail, about how close they were. If you had once told them a joke at a party, they’ll claim that you shared a deep and profound moment.
I’ve even heard of an enemy putting aside years of bad blood to honor their fallen adversary at the funeral. Granted, that’s impressively civil, but they are missing out on a golden opportunity to disgrace them in front of their friends and family, postmortem. How could anyone resist placing a crawdad in the open fly of their foe and pointing it out to the great shame of their entire family? I, most certainly, could not. I sincerely doubt anyone could and that’s another good reason to restrict access to my corpse while it is on public display for my loved ones.
Then again, maybe I wouldn’t need to bother with a guest list. There are times in your life when you wonder who, if anyone, would even show up. I suppose it is the living moments that really matter, though. The connections you have, or had, with people before the blood stops squishing around inside you are probably a lot more important than who shows up at a place with way too many curtains just to stare at your dead body inside of a box. So, maybe, I’ll just charge a cover for the people I didn’t really want to show. After all, someone has to pay for the laser light show.