A NY Times article covered a fairly new trend: people having their favorite family recipes engraved on tombstones. The author came across one accidentally when looking for a relative’s grave. That led her to search the cemetery for other examples and she found quite a few. It turns out folks have written books and e-zines with recipes found on memorials.
I don’t have a single recipe that would merit being engraved in granite. My mother was a fabulous baker; dozens of her recipes are tombstone worthy. She’s buried in a family plot and her personal marker is a small flat stone with barely enough room for her name and dates. My husband and I plan to be cremated and have yet to decide what instructions to leave for the disposition of our ashes. So I really don’t have a need for a recipe for posterity.
Needless to say, that didn’t stop me from pondering what I might want to appear above my remains, were I interred in a cemetery under a large stone marker. The first thing that came to mind was a limerick, some clever little rhyming ditty. I’d normally write something bawdy, but that would limit where it could go. Absent my usual snark, dark humor or blue language, I doubt anything I wrote would cut the mustard against a good recipe. Then again…
Here lie the remains of a lass
Who opted to turn them to ash.
She was incensed to learn that an oversized urn
Would be needed to hold her broad a**.
I’d love to have a clever cartoon mark my finally resting place. Maybe I could hire Gary Larsen to draw a Far Side style one that would showcase my humor. He’s so clever and I’ve always admired his use of language. He started creating cartoons again about two years ago. He’s five years younger than I am, but it might be wise to contract for my cartoon before I’ve moved on to the Rainbow Bridge.
I’d love to include all the cats I’ve adopted over the years in my final plans. I’ve had each of them cremated and my intention is to comingle their ashes with mine. My husband will also have his cremains in the mix, but we’ve never worked out the logistics. If I last at least five more years, I’ll probably have ten feline children with me. Counting me and Jagdish, that would be a dozen names to memorialize. I could commission an elaborate Indian mandala to incorporate them. I’ll bet that would attract a lot of attention in a cemetery.
Here’s another idea that’s more personal. I could list my favorite themes for tree trimming parties I’ve held. They might inspire graveyard wanderers. I made special invitations each year. The invite for my Potpourri Trim included small sachets that I filled with pine scented dried flowers. There was the Teddy Bears’ Trim, with the invitation based on their picnic song. Tulip and Daisy, my cats at the time, were jealous. So the next year I had a Cats’ Trim.
Eventually, I co-owned a house with a man who had an awesome collection of vintage model trains. When he set up his elaborate layout, we celebrated with the C M and E Railroad trim, using our initials and our version of the Pufferbellies song. “Down in the basement early in the morning, see the little pufferbellies all in a row. See the station master turn a little handle. Puff puff, toot toot, off they go.”
One of my last trims held in Providence had a Cozy Slippers theme. A few of our guests actually wore their slippers, which I really appreciated. Most came in their street shoes. That was disappointing. It’s not like I asked them to wear pajamas, after all, although that could have been a fun theme, too. I had dozens of trims over the years, but those I mentioned here are the ones that I feel are tombstone worthy.
Somewhere in this essay could be an idea that you’ll find helpful the next time you have to decide what to put on a gravesite marker. It’s never too soon to plan for the inevitable. Why not get creative about what you’ll leave for posterity?
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