2011 Issue - Santa Fe Community College

promote the natural decomposing of a body. I wondered about the lead
grave liner. I thought it must be to preserve a loved one’s bones for eternity,
but I learn cemeteries use them to maintain ground stability. Otherwise,
each cemetery row would be like a street full of potholes or a
particularly difficult golf course.
A natural landscape is preserved in these cemeteries. I picture
rolling hills, evergreen trees, a babbling brook and picnic tables. And I
love this part: many such cemeteries let visitors use GPS tracking devices
to locate remains of loved ones. Wouldn’t my children have a field
day, so to speak, with that
I am not actively contemplating dying. I am seventy-five years old,
realistic, and only a little unnerved by the prospect. I want to be responsible
and make arrangements that will make it easier for my children to –
well – get rid of the body. I’d like my poem read:
Canyons of red
deep purple
tumbling white water
shooting the rapids
now an eddy
and “Bye, Bye, Blackbird” sung. I like that line, “Make my bed and
light the light, I’ll arrive, late tonight.”
Ruminating on a desirable “container” for my body, I happen upon a
whole bin of knitting yarn at a thrift shop. All my favorite colors – blue,
red, purple, teal and rust – in natural wool, were on sale for half price!
Not only that, but the entire lot is only $8.50 to begin with. I realize I
can knit my shroud for only $4.25.
I rarely knit anything more complicated than a scarf or washcloth, so
I make a few false starts each time I begin a new project. Rather than experimenting,
I stop in the local craft shop for casting-on directions.
“I’m going to knit my shroud,” I begin, and the two women behind
the counter stare at me as though I had, in fact, just dropped dead in
front of them. I mumble about “green cemeteries” and “sound ecological
practices” and “how do I know how many stitches to cast on and how do
I do it” The grey-haired, more down-to-earth appearing clerk recovers
Santa Fe Literary Review 49