non-ecumenical ramblings

Debated whether to post this photos from Will We Ever Arrive At the Good Death? as it's so intrusive. Did not feel comfortable posting the final photo in Suzanne Richardson death series: I realize that she must have given permission to the NYTimes, and millions had to have seen the photo series by now, but some photos are still too private to be shared with the public.

Perhaps it's my 3 surgeries in the past 2 years, but have thought more recently of how I'd like to die and whether I would really take the Maude option if I had a brain tumor or gastric cancer. Easy to say while sitting at the PC blogging and sipping club soda that I'd go up to Oregon and ask for assisted suicide, or husband enough pain pills to help myself along, but can do no more than wonder when not faced directly with a hopeless disease & painful death.

Not sure why, but most of my thoughts have been around where I'd like my ashes spread post-cremation. My home's the road, so what where do my ashes belong. Along Roscomare Road? Off the top of Mt. Whitney? Strewn into the wind just off PCH somewhere between here and San Francisco? Blasted into space to float with Timothy Leary & Gene Roddenbury? Do have the image of my non-existent child hiking somewhere strenuous to shed my ashes as an appropriate ending to my life.