When I was five, my grandmother was taken to her viewing. Being five, I was freaked out. My brother thought she was just asleep and tried to wake her up. To this day, I think he expects her to walk through the door someday.(He's autistic.) Sorry, but you've got a 100-year waiting list over here and she won't walk through our door 'til you walk through hers.. in the afterlife.
Back to me. Well, my mom told be it was natural and that this is what happens to everyone after they die. I was so little I believed it and was totally comfortable with people looking at my rotting corpse in ninety-five years' time (I hope.)
When I was about six, a distant cousin of my dad's died, and I learned of cremation. I was grossed out. I started to dance around like there was a spider on my back (I shook my hands and moved my feet. I can still copy it), screaming "I don't wanna burn! I don't wanna burn!" When my parents and every other adult calmed me down,I said, "I'm not going back out there."
"Why?" asked my mom.
"'Cause I don't wanna burn."
"They're not going to burn you," said my dad. "They're going to burn my cousin."
"But won't it hurt her?"
"She's dead," said my dad. "It won't hurt her."
"Am I gonna burn?"
"You're going to die eventually, but a long time from now."
"This happens to everyone when they die," my mom said.
"Not Grandma.Grandma didn't burn. But she died,you said."
Then my dad explained burials and cremations.
"Are you gonna burn?"
"No."
"Is Mommy gonna burn?"
"No."
"Is my other Grandma gonna burn?"
"No."
"Is Zeke gonna burn?"
"We don't know."
I fire off some more questions, but they eventually persuaded me to go back outside.
The next year, Grandpa died. It had been the cruddiest summer ever.(Well, that and last year's) My brother almost died and my favorite toy broke. (I was going to ask for a new one for Christmas, but they don't make them anymore! ARRRGH!) I had to see his body, which was strangely more freakish than Grandma's. I swore to the soul that I was going "to burn".
When I was eight, my aunt Kelly died. I'd never seen her before, but I was still pretty sad. We had to pass the "baby cemetery", and that was heartbreaking. I still kept my promise to "not get thrown in those places".
The next year, I just became uncomfortable with death in general.
Not much happened after that.
I think I want to get cremated and buried in a cemetery for the children of veterans. Wait, I might get buried, but I don't want a viewing. I've come a long way from being five.
.