Funerals and grave sites are for the living, not the dead.
First of all, I want my organs donated. Keep me on ice or hooked up to machines, whatever you need to do, in order to harvest as much of me as possible for my fellow humans I'm leaving behind for a bit.
In my will, I state that my family is free to do whatever brings them comfort, and I promise I won't come back from the grave to haunt them - I'll be busy doing much more interesting stuff.
But - if they feel they need to know and follow my last wishes, they are this:
If I look like hell, don't have an open casket. Just close that sucker and put a pretty picture of me on top of it.
Music at my funeral shall include: "Softly and Tenderly," (my entire family groaned when I told them that and said in unison, "Wow, you really want us to cry, don't you?"), "We're Marching to Zion," anything by Sting, James Taylor, Queen, U2, Bach, Mozart, and Telemann (actually I want all of those folks represented), Air on a G String (my all time favorite song), "Over the Rainbow" by Eva Cassidy, and then the grand finale - "I'll Fly Away!" (all together now!).
I want to be buried with my Raggedy Ann doll (I don't want her showing in the casket, just have her in there somewhere where she can't be seen). This is the doll whose face I cried off (by laying on it) when my dad was in combat in Viet Nam. I carried her with me while we moved to a different state every two years during my childhood. When I grew up, every time I had a child or a grandchild, I've taken her out of her box and shown her the baby. I know it's weird, but I don't care. She's taken good care of me.
I prefer to be cremated. I have a large life insurance policy and I've actually written in my will that I want my family to take a vacation to Europe, and I want them to stand on a bridge over the Main River in Germany, or on a mountaintop in the Alps, and throw my ashes to the wind - then go drink a lot of beer and have a great time, on me! I haven't paid these premiums my whole life for nothing!
If they want to erect a tombstone, I'd like for it to say, "She carpe diemed with gusto!"
A side note - our family is a bit irreverent about death, since we believe it's just a stop at a station along the way to greater things. My grandmother was one who always believed heartily in an afternoon nap - and then an early bedtime, at dark whether it was 6 pm or 9 pm. In other words, we never knew anyone who could sleep as much as that woman -though she often complained that no matter how hard she tried, she would always wake up about 4 am and not be able to go back to sleep! (We tried to point out to her that she was consistently getting about 12 hours of sleep a day but she never seemed to be able to grasp that!)
When my dad and I picked out her tombstone, we chose this verse, "He giveth His beloved sleep." I am sure she is still laughing at that one! My mom thought we were awful, but I thought it was hilarious!
