Here Today...

I have an inherited ability… the ability (or rather incessant desire) to save every letter and card I ever receive. I know this is inherited, because my mom does the same thing. Last night, as I was looking through a box of Mom’s old bills, I found a folder with the heading “Ma’s papers”. Inside I found cards, letters, & newspapers clipping all sent by my grandma to Mom. Included in this folder was a perfectly typed paper which piqued my interest. It is an article written by my grandma to the Denver Post about her “final wishes”. I thought you would enjoy her wit and humor in handling an otherwise touchy subject.

June 21, 1990

By: Marti Fredericks

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow or You Only Live Once – In a While

Dying is serious business – that is, the customary disposal of one’s body is serious business. Realizing this, I concentrated my thoughts on a more unusual transference of a corpse into the hands of others, where it would serve a useful purpose.

I’m sure my “dead-line” is very much in the future, but before I get the final word from my Sponsor, I would like to have the last word about leaving this “Vale of Cheers.”

I read, in the Denver Post, that there is a great need for cadavers. It was then I decided to give the cadaver business a whirl. I contacted The Anatomical Board to offer up my body, warts and all.

Included in the requirements are the conditions that you must be over eighteen years of age and of sound mind. At eighty-one and a half years, I am well over the required age. The jury and my family are still out concerning the soundness of my mind. Until proven guilty I will not revoke my decision to try to be helpful to the future of medical technology.

I am delighted to know that at some time down the road – a far piece down the road – someone will be as pleased as I have been to have my body. It has been a few years since anyone has been interested in my body so it will be nice to know that a group of young medical students will benefit from the study of my parts.

No, I don’t mind knowing I will be probed and pulled apart. Imagine ME (or what’s left of me) giving my anatomy to be studied for new medical breakthroughs or surgical procedures. It makes me feel good all under. It’s the only way to go!

My husband, George, passed away at sixty-seven, eighteen years ago, donating his body to research and science. Prior to making his decision he had wanted to be cremated and have his ashes strewn over Haddonfield, NJ, where he had spent his entire life.

He was rapidly declining as he told me of his choice. It pained me greatly to even think of his departure but after his debilitating illness of fifteen years, I had developed a stiff upper lip. As many of us do at a time of gravity, I tried to be witty. I said, “Absolutely not. I would dread walking down the street and having an ash blow in my face. What would I say? ‘Is that you, George?’ No, dear, I renege on the thought of you being cremated.” We laughed and he said he understood. He then decided on the alternative of research and science. The NJ Anatomical Board members were pleased to have his body and wrote me a thank you note for abiding by his wishes.

Since at the time of my demise, I will be classified as a gift to the Colorado Anatomical Board, I want the full treatment of a gift. I would like someone in attendance to sing, “Tie a yellow ribbon ’round the old body,” and as a proper gift, I would like to be formally wrapped – flesh colored paper will do.

I wondered what would happen to the remains of my remains. I was excited to learn that they will be placed in a private cemetery maintained by the Board, plus I’ll have a handsomely designed and engraved plaque which will hang in the Memorial Room Science Center. It will read, “In Gratitude: They became teachers in their way and all have benefited by what they taught.” Isn’t that splendid! What else is there to ask for? Oh, yes, I might even prevail upon my family to have a small brass plate engraved with my name and the year of my birth and the year of my death. It will be attached to the plaque by a small brass chain. Isn’t that exciting! Talk about going out in a blaze of glory! That’s living! It’s far superior to being buried in your Cadillac.

Living isn’t always easy, but there’s always the hope of a tomorrow that will be better. I live in the hope of many tomorrows, but after that the joy of knowing I can be a small part in giving back to the world discoveries for prolonged and better lives for others gives me tremulous excitement.

My thoughts on the disposition of my body is of my own design. I am truly sorry if I have offended anyone by making light of dying. I have suffered through many loved ones’ deaths and I know there’s nothing humorous about the separation. As for myself, I feel it’s just another turn in the maze of life. I thank my Creator for lending me this body and I am pleased to lend it to someone to prove, beyond any reasonable doubt, that while it is good to live and learn, it is equally good to die knowing others will learn from my conclusive contribution.