There are many ways to go green these days. But a paper coffin wouldn't be my first choice.

There are many ways to go green these days. But a paper coffin wouldn't be my first choice. In my hometown of Eugene, Oregon, a local funeral home is now offering eco-friendly funerals that include coffins made of biodegradable materials such as bamboo or cardboard, preparation without chemical preservatives, and delivery of the body to the grave site via three-wheeled bicycle. I'm completely on board with cutting out the preservatives -- most people these days have enough of those in their systems -- but I'm wary of a final resting place made of cardboard. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not too good for cardboard. In fact, I saved the box my dishwasher came in five years ago just in case the economy gets worse and I need a roof over my head. Sure, it'll be a tight squeeze, but it will keep me from shopping at Costco.

My problem is with paying someone to bury me in a plain brown paper box. Let's just say that as a naturally-pale person, tan is not my best color, and I'm fairly certain I'll be even more pigmentally-challenged post-mortem. If I'm going in paper products, I want five or six or my closest girlfriends to wrap me in bright lime and purple wrapping paper with a nice big bow on top. With a tag that says "Return to sender, address unknown."

Fortunately, burial isn't an issue for me because I'm planning to be cremated and scattered over the Oregon mountains. Preferably during Memorial Day weekend when there are campers nearby who despite the fact that cigarettes now cost more than Oxycontin are still clinging to their nasty habits. I want some of my ashes to blow into their hair. It only seems fair.

My mother has willed her body to a private organization. I've got a piece of paper in my "to be filed" pile that has their name and number on it. I never file it anywhere because I'm sure that when the day comes, I'll never be able to find it again. So every six weeks or so when I sort through my receipts and bills, I get a little reminder that mom is going to let a bunch of mad scientists conduct whatever odd experiments they want with her organs. "Okay, now let's see what happens if slide her brain down this tube into a vat of lime Jell-O!"

So cardboard coffin, no. But bicycle transportation to my home away from home, that sounds nice. Especially since, despite the divorce, according to my will my ex-husband has to scatter my ashes. He can thank me later for the workout.

---

Tag this article: