A short poem on a serious subject that is nevertheless joyous, I think. This is by Robinson Jeffers:
It nearly cancels my fear of death, my dearest said,
when I think of cremation. To rot in the earth
is a loathsome end, but to roar up in flames--besides, I
am used to it.
I have flamed with love or fury so often in my life
no wonder my body is tired, no wonder it is dying.
We had great joy of my body. Scatter my ashes.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!