Today’s topic is not very uplifting, for sure. Especially for me. Nor do I think you, kind reader, really wish to ponder such either.

Enough with the tease, Mr. Column Writer. What is this enigmatic topic?

Fair enough. I’m talking about obituaries. As in, haven’t we all thought about just what our own obituary will say? What will be included. What won’t.

Now, keep in mind that a death notice carries no charge, but an obituary does. The lengthier, the costlier. Don’t think that’s not a consideration for a lot of folks. A lot.

Adding such a cost to all of the other expenses incurred when someone passes away might cause some of us to be a bit frugal. You know, is it really necessary to include that in the write-up?

For my own obituary I think just including the specifics, such as date of death, age, family information, would be enough.

My suggestion to my family would be to have no formal funeral. Since I am to be cremated, they can do or not do whatever they feel appropriate. If they feel a need to hold a wake — visitation —so be it. I’d suggest they not do so. If friends wish to come by the house — make sure to bring those casseroles, cakes, and pies, now — then that’s fine. Whatever works for my family.

And that’s it. Once upon a time I wanted a full-blown funeral, with emphasis on the music. Mostly music. No eulogy. Why, I even had the songs picked out. It was going to be a memorable musical occasion. Pulling all this together was going to put unnecessary stress on my family. Besides, arranging to bring in Andrea Bocelli; the Dallas Vocal Majority barbershop chorus; Sarah Brightman, Charlotte Church and Jackie Evancho; Neil Diamond; and a ’60s era doo-wop group, et al, might be a bit of a challenge. Logistically daunting.

So. And how would I like to be remembered? If I am remembered.

That I loved my family, and was proud of them. Much as most of you feel, as well.

That I loved animals, and could not abide those who abused or neglected them.

That I loved the mountains, and so much in nature.

That I loved many different kinds of music, especially barbershop harmony.

That I loved reading.

That I loved running.

That I appreciate the years I had teaching and coaching young people.

And that I always felt blessed beyond measure, perhaps undeservedly so. And was truly grateful.

Enough of that. Too much, probably.

If you were to write your own obituary today, what would you say?

What, indeed.