I’m sitting enjoying a bit of sun in the Scandinavian winter. A pair of mature ladies are sit down next to me having a conversation. They are talking about funerals, remembering and comparing. Cascets, urns, churches and funeral lunches. One of them circles back to humble bragging about one funeral in particular. “It’s the most modern funeral I’ve ever been to”, she says every time.


My grandma always said, “When I die, stuff me and put me in the corner, because I don’t want to miss that party.”