He Died Laughing

I, being of sound mind, do hereby declare that my funeral must be a comedy.

My grandfather passed away on Sunday, a couple of months after my grandmother. My uncle also passed away earlier this year. I've been to a number of wakes and funerals this past few months and, after experiencing the solemnity and heavy-heartedness, I am dead certain that I don't want mine to be the same.

So this is a pre-recorded message to my friends, my family, the people who knew me and will know me: my memorial will be hilarious. Because I believe that it should not be about mourning death, but celebrating life. Because life is a joke, and death is the punchline.

So make jokes. Do tricks. Laugh. Pun. Write satirical eulogies. Subvert traditions and challenge conventions. Be unconventional. Make it themed. Make it a musical. Put the FUN back in FUNeral. Do improv. Do black humour. Do insult comedy, for all I care; it's not like I will be able to get offended or anything. Pull a Python. Rhyme.

And when you hear the dry chuckle from the recesses of the coffin, you'll know you have my approval.

Laughing all the way to the grave,
The Edna Man