A portmanteau is a two-sided suitcase, popular for traveling on ships in earlier days. The irrepressible Lewis Carroll used the word to describe what happens when two words are combined to form a new one: “You see,” Humpty Dumpty explains to Alice, “it's like a portmanteau—there are two meanings packed up into one word.” The examples he gave were from Lewis’s delightful poem “Jabberwocky,” but these joined words are common everywhere. Some examples: cockapoo, from Cocker Spaniel and poodle; biopic, from biography and picture; a favorite dinner treat of mine: Tofurkey, from tofu and turkey; and here’s a real howler: Reaganomics, from Ronald Reagan and economics (never those twains met); and perhaps the most egregious misuse of these terms: Verizon, from veritas (Latin for truth) and horizon. Verizon? Truth? Not words one often link together with that company. And that brings me to the topic of this blog: cremains, from cremate and remains.
Yesterday, I arranged my own cremation. Fortunately, I had had a taste of what was to come after dealing with my friend Roger’s cremation with The Cremation Society of Illinois; in fact, that’s why I chose this company: the good experience with them and their charming representative, Brooke. Other than a blow to my pocketbook, the experience wasn’t bad at all. Still, it’s a bit disconcerting sitting around calmly discussing my own death and the disposition of these mortal remains. “What?! I’m going to die? No wait . . .” Okay, it wasn’t that dramatic. And I’ve had so many friends and family die around me over the last decade or so, that I am all too aware that death is just a misstep away. (My friend Ray reminded me just today how many auto-pedestrian hit and run deaths there are in Chicago every year—just as we stepped out onto the busy intersection at Diversey and Sheffield. I looked both ways.)
But I’m glad I did it. Since Roger had made cremation arrangements in advance, that part of his death was relatively easy to deal with (much else wasn’t). And I hope to make it that way for my family, too. My brother Ken, and my executor and medical power of attorney designate, was involved in the process by phone. I feel good that that’s taken care of. It’s not completely paid for yet—I’m paying it out over the year ahead—but even poor as I am I have enough of an estate to cover the balance should something happen quickly.
Now, about that portmanteau word that is the title of this blog: I hate that word! What’s wrong with ashes? Even remains (although that sounds suspiciously like garbage to me)? So, I’ll not use it. Once I’m gone people can call what’s left anything they want.
