How to make your funeral a real blast: Get your ashes rocketed into space
Asked if he planned to attend a rival’s funeral, Mark Twain said no, but that he had sent a nice note saying that he approved of it.
In that spirit, far be it from me to rain on anyone's funeral parade, no matter how spacey it might seem. And I do mean spacey.
Those for whom scattering their ashes over the Grand Canyon or Fenway Park are not good enough now have the option of having their last earthly remains hurled into space where they will spend all eternity amidst the cosmos.
At first blush, this does seem like a romantic, harmonious notion. But, as all these things go, the only way to achieve romance and harmony is to be dead, which is sort of a buzzkill. It’s like they always say, anticipation is always better than reality. If you want to while away your golden years fantasizing about your future ashes — I don’t know, maybe you should instead take up pickleball or something.
Behind this initiative is, love the name, Celestis, a company that, on a very tasteful website, offers “memorial space flights” that are “surprisingly affordable.”
Surprisingly affordable. And if you act now you get a free star chart so your loved ones can know which satellite you’re floating by as they gaze to the heavens. (I made that last part up; normally I would not need to point out that I made up something so bizarre, but this whole enterprise stretches the limits of normalcy, so I don’t want to create any misunderstandings.)
“Memorials can be stressful to plan by yourself,” the website states. But Celestis’ compassionate team makes it simple. “Let us help guide you in choosing your future space destination.”
Boy isn’t that the truth. Cremation seems simple until you get the ashes back, but then what do you do? Anything that gets them out of the way on a permanent basis runs the risk of being disrespectful.
But putting them in a fancy urn in a place of honor can be a problem too. The first grandparent or two may be OK, but a mantle is only so big, and as you grow older and lose more family members, awkward as it might seem, somebody’s going to have to go in the basement.
Space solves that. And I have to agree that it is affordable, especially compared with a full-on, whole-hog burial service.
The New York Times reports that “Celestis sends its cargo on spacecraft undertaking unrelated scientific and commercial missions. Packages start at around $2,500.”
You know how that goes, the base price only gets your mom duct taped into the cargo bay of a Verizon cellular satellite. If you want to hitch her on to a deep space Voyager, it’s gonna cost you.
Some people, it sounds like, want to send their DNA into space with the idea that it might one day be intercepted by intelligent life and maybe reverse engineered into humanity in some distant galaxy. A bit of a long shot, I grant you.
And the beings on Planet Zorkionia would be talking their chances on this one. Maybe they’ve been spending their eons pining for a life form that spends its days arguing about Medicaid expansion on Facebook, but I doubt it.
For most who sign up though, the reasoning seems a little more pedestrian. Or as Celestis says, “Imagine taking part in a memorial service that extends into the universe, sharing the same tribute shared by NASA, astronauts, celebrities, & others around the world to honor their most beloved departed.”
That may or may not be a selling point. But unless I know the celebrity I’m not going to buy in. My luck, I’d spend all eternity orbiting the earth in the same cargo hold as Rand Paul.
The basement of some distant relative is sounding better and better.
Tim Rowland is a Herald-Mail columnist.
This article originally appeared on The Herald-Mail: There are pluses and minuses to having your ashes shot into space
