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One day an old man died and, per his wishes, was creamated. Several years later, his grandson noticed a cardboard box with the old man's name on the box. "Look mom, there's a package for Grandpa!", the boy exclaimed. "No son. That is not FOR Grandpa. That IS Grandpa!"

My late wife died at 39 and was cremated. We had a regular service with a rented casket. After the service, they took her to the crematorium, so no procession. My mom died when I was 21. I now live too far away to visit her plot in the cemetery, and rarely have when I was back home over the years. I have no close family there anymore, so no one will visit the site. So, why bother. My late wife was mostly scattered under a tree that marks the spot where a triathlon was held in her honor on year 1 and memory on year 2. Her parents wanted a portion to bring home to bury in a cemetery with her brother, and I kept three small urns for our kids. Through the triathlon, we raised about $80,000 to help young families battling cancer, so it was probably the most significant point of impact in her life.

I want to be cremated rather than forgotten in a hole in the ground. At this point, what they do with my ashes is up to them. Bury them. Use them in the garden. Wash them down the garbage disposal. I don't really care. Just don't throw them off a tall building. I'm afraid of heights.