My Great Grandfather Burke who lost both of his legs above knee in a railroad incident.  He farmed 40 acres despite his amuptations
My Great Grandfather Burke who lost both of his legs above knee in a railroad incident. He farmed 40 acres despite his amputations

When my leg was removed as a child my parents decided to purchase a grave plot and have it buried.  Their reasons were modest enough and I am honored that they took my amputation so seriously.  Still, I remember the awkward moment as a child standing before my grave plaque and trying to make the connection in my brain between my very much alive body and the very creepy grave plot which contained my very dead and amputated leg.

Of course, as an adult the idea of coining the phrase “one foot in the grave” has its appeal.  There remains however the dilemma of where I will be buried when I do pass on from this world.  Naturally, I would like to be buried near my husband.  Meanwhile the majority of my family is buried in a different graveyard that is local and I have thought about how nice it would be to lie there.  At not even thirty years old I shouldn’t be putting this much thought into my death!  Yet, the fact remains I have one foot in the grave and I need to figure this out at some point.

Do I buy the plot next to my leg so that my husband and I can be together and I can be buried with my leg?  Or do I somehow set money aside and leave directions in my will to have my leg dug back up and moved to wherever I am buried?  Let’s be honest, who would want that job of digging up a dead person’s body part and what would they think of me?  Isn’t the whole point of dying leaving a good legacy?  Yep, I’m pretty sure that would be squashed the second they dug up a decayed child-sized right leg!

Since there will be a new body in heaven waiting for me why even bother?  This life is temporary and we will all move on to better things and should give no thought to the past!  Yet whenever I pass that particular graveyard containing my leg I give a silent nod and salute towards my missing piece.

The truth is even if it doesn’t matter whether or not I am buried with my leg I simply feel a bit disorganized knowing that there may be parts of me scattered about.  I feel a little responsible to take care of my body – all of it. Of course, this theory will be literally blown away in the event that I am killed in any sort of bombing.

So for now, until my probable cause of death is resolved in my head the issue shall remain unresolved.  I still have a ways to go; after all, I’ve only one foot in the grave.

 *Please understand this piece was written in humor. While yes, I really do think about this issue from time to time the reality is I believe Jesus will restore my body and it really doesn’t matter where I am buried or how I am buried! 

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