and when I die,
when I’m dead, dead and gone
The recently widowed wife/mother described funerals as “barbaric”. She is qualified to know; having buried a son who was killed in Vietnam 37 years earlier. Nothing like the sharp volleys of a 21 gun salute to accentuate the point. Apart from losing a son the husband/father also knew about barbarity; having been captured at Corregidor at the outbreak of World War Two then spending three and a half years as a Japanese prisoner. Death marches, hell ships, slave labor – life doesn’t get more barbaric than that. After 61 years of marriage she now keeps his ashes at their home waiting until she too passes so they can be interred together. Quietly, with as little fuss as possible.