a couple of weeks ago i received a flyer in the mail advertising that "hillside", our local cemetery, was having a 20% off sale on plots. the husband, confusing "hillside" with "hillcrest", our local golf club, was very excited. "20% off. you can't beat that." "it's "hillside" not "hillcrest" i corrected him "and besides, we don't play golf." "oh, that's o.k." he answered, "we don't play dead either" and walked, chuckling, out of the room.
i turned the offer over in my mind. i asked a couple of friends what they were doing about "after life arrangements." many had already taken "hillside" up on their generous offer. "you can't do much better" one friend said "and it is in the best part of town to be buried. otherwise you might end up in the valley." to be buried in the valley, for a person from west los angeles, would be the equivalent of a manhattanite being buried in new jersey. it just was not the thing to do.
i agonized over the decision. i knew the husband didn't care. he was planning on going first and had great confidence that i would take care of all the arrangements. i, on the other hand, did not have the same confidence in him. my concern was that, just in case i should kick the bucket first, it was very possible that he would just leave me, sitting around the family room, decomposing on the chenille sectional.
i didn't know what to do until a couple of days ago when fate had a way of steering me in the right direction. the subject of cemetery plots came up at the manicurists (o.k.. i brought it up - but still). one of the friday afternoon regulars told me not to worry about it. it seems, according to charlene, that just like that young beverly hills couple who hired a woman to carry their child so the wife wouldn't have to miss ski season, there was soon to be a new service available. charlene had it on very good authority that in a year, two at the most, for a price, we will all be able to hire some one to die for us.