It's a kind of magic...

Yesterday I embarked upon a mini "road-trip" with three crazy ladies (mom, aunt, and granny). The destination: Victoria. The purpose: a Celebration of Life.

I don't do well at funerals. To be completely honest, I am usually a mess. And I've never lost anyone close to me. The fact that I lose control of my emotions so easily at funerals makes me never want to attend them. But a Celebration of Life - the anti-funeral - is something I can definitely get on board with.

The sun shone brightly. The air was crisply comfortable. The park served as the ideal location for the planting of symbolic oak trees. Relatives gave speeches regarding the qualities the deceased possessed. Sure, it was sad. But discussion regarding how one's life has, and will continue, to positively affect the lives of others was uplifting. The Celebration took the loss associated with death and transformed it into a collection of memories associated with life.

When I die, which will hopefully be later rather than sooner, I hope that my family and friends will do something similar. If I had my way, my body would be buried in the middle of nowhere sans embalming chemicals and grow one with the earth. Return to whence I came, I say. But since it's illegal, maybe scattering my ashes on a wind farm is a better idea.

Nonetheless, I hope that after I'm gone I, too, will be celebrated for my memories and not mourned for what could have been. Life is brief. And fleeting. And we can't change that. What we can do is to come together and share in the knowledge that we're all changed because of the deceased and the legacy left behind.

It was a beautiful ceremony. And I think Dale would have approved of how his life was remembered - how it was celebrated.