The Book is Called Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee

    Where we choose to be buried, or scattered, or leave our remains and legacies.

    I read that book when I in sixth grade, probably. I liked it. However, it is sad and tragic. But it tells many true stories and histories, but it is our shared history, it is U.S. history and the world's.

    No one really wants to die. I guess some people wish to cease to exist. That is different. But we all, or most of us, wish to live forever. That is the hope of most of us...

    I have speculated, mostly jokingly, that I would like my body parts buried in either six or eight southern ocean islands encircling the earth, in all the major seas.

    South Georgia, Bouvet, maybe, and a few others. Morbid and strange, to be separated by body parts: head, limbs, torso. But the underlying theme is: we wish to keep living. 

    Death is too far away, but ever so close, to deal with.

    Seriously, I have wondered where to be buried for over thirty years, but I still do not know where to go. Where to be. Where, or how, and certainly not when.