I guess since I haven’t blogged since midway through Cambodia, we should probably start there. On the plane back from Cambodia I sat next to this guy, Andre Ramadan. He admired the fact that I had bought dinner at the airport instead of waiting for the crappy ship food, and asked if my beer was any good. I offered him a sip, and he declined, saying “I don’t drink beer.” He then put on his iPod and drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Andre was found dead in his cabin. No one is quite sure what happened—the only thing I know is that he seemed very tired during the Cambodia trip, and that he slept a lot on the bus. But we were all tired, so I didn’t think anything of it. When I realized who it had been, this guy I barely knew who I’d sat next to on the plane… the only word that comes to mind is devastated.
Today was the memorial service for Andre. They were playing Deadmau5, a band I adore—he seemed like he would be a dubstep fan. He had great taste in music. There were readings from the Quran, the Hebrew Bible, and the New Testament. His friends got up and talked about his life, how he had a great hyena laugh that was so infectious, how he knew five languages, how he was so giving. There was a slideshow. I hadn’t realized I’d taken two of the pictures that were on there, during the Cambodia trip. I lost it at the very end, where they started playing a song with a ukulele that was “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” and started crying. We took flowers and, in tradition, threw them off the ship into the ocean.
If I die, and I don’t have any intentions of doing so anytime soon, I don’t want there to be a big dumb funeral where people wear black and veils and sing depressing hymns. I want people to throw me a gigantic party, where people can dance and sing and talk about my life and (hopefully) how I was a great person. I don’t want to be mourned, I want to be celebrated. I want everyone to wear bright colors. I want them to play dubstep at my funeral. I want them to play Piano Man. I want them to play Free Bird. I want them to play Imagine. More than anything, I want them to play Don’t Stop Me Now. I want there to be a dance floor. I want jokes. I want comedy. I want people to hold each other and laugh and kiss and hug.
I want my ashes scattered into this ocean that I’ve come to love so much, so that I can keep sailing all over the world.
Rest in peace, Andre Ramadan. You're in all our thoughts.
Monday, November 8, 2010
In Case of Death
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The 'if I die' part made me cry, so don’t. And I agree I don’t want a funeral at all. What I do want other than a party is a coffin painted like a package with a big 'Return to Sender' stamp painted on it.
ReplyDeleteLove you, I hope he is remembered fondly and that his family is doing as good as they can be. He is truly in a better place.
... I promise to play Disney and show tunes at your early funeral also even thought you didn’t request it above, I know you want it. ;)
But seriously, under no circumstances are you allowed to die.
Oh, honey. I'm sitting here trying to cry silently so my roommates don't think I'm having a breakdown.
ReplyDeletePart of the reason I'm crying is that my friend Rhona and I have an "if you die before me" agreement wherein we promised to make sure the other's wake goes exactly how the other party wants it. Mine is roughly like yours, except with more Talking Heads.
And the other part I can't even properly articulate. A mourning, perhaps, for this person I didn't even know existed. Something that goes beyond words.