“You want a Physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to speak to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so that they understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none gets destroyed. You want your mother to know that all of you energy, every vibration, every BTU of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got. And at one point you would hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit, and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photos that ever bounced off her face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know, that all the photons bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they'll be comforted to know your energy's still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you're just less orderly."