I wanted to enjoy it first

A prearrangement story about choosing a Wyland piece to live with now — and later.

I've always loved Wyland's work. There is something about the ocean in his paintings that I've been drawn to for years. I've admired his work in galleries, talked about owning one someday, and probably spent far too much time deciding which pieces I would choose if I ever actually did it.

I just never imagined my funeral arrangements would be what finally gave me the push.

When I was prearranging with my funeral home, we started talking about what I wanted to happen after I died. I knew I wanted to be cremated, but I wasn't particularly attached to the idea of an urn.

Then I learned about embellished art. I could choose a piece of art I genuinely loved, and after I died, a portion of my ashes could be incorporated into the painting by an artist. I loved the idea.

But then I had a slightly different thought. Why should everyone else get to enjoy my painting except me?

Because I was prearranging, the funds for the artwork could be released early. I didn't have to wait until I died for my family to choose the piece on my behalf. I could choose it myself. So I did.

I picked a Wyland piece that I loved, brought it home and hung it where I could actually enjoy it. Right now, it's just my art.

I get to walk past it every day. I get to sit across from it and notice things I didn't see before. When someone comes over and tells me they love it, I get to say, 'Me too.' There's something I really like about that.

Someday, after I'm gone, the painting will go back to the artist and a portion of my ashes will be incorporated into it. Then it will come home again. Only this time, it will come home to my family.

And because the piece is a print, it doesn't necessarily have to belong to just one of them. If my family wants to, additional prints of the same artwork can be ordered. My ashes can be divided, and each painting can be individually embellished with a portion of them. I really love that idea.

My children won't have to decide who gets the painting. They can each have the same piece hanging in their own home, each containing a little part of me. Maybe years from now I'll be on the wall in three different houses. The same image. The same connection. But surrounded by three completely different lives. And they'll know I chose it.

They'll remember exactly where the original hung in my home. Maybe they'll remember sitting in this room with me with that painting in the background, long before it ever became a memorial. There's something about that continuity that feels right to me.

I get to choose the art. I get to enjoy it while I'm here.

And someday, instead of leaving behind one memorial that my family has to decide what to do with, I can leave them something they already associate with me. Something they've seen in my home. Something they know I loved. And if they want to, something each of them can carry forward into their own home.

The painting doesn't suddenly become about my death. It's still the Wyland I loved. It just becomes part of our family's story too.