Watching a Funeral From Afar

I live in a high rise apartment on the fifth floor  
There is a funeral home just across the street
Every couple of days I watch through the closed blinds
All the cars and people gather to say their goodbyes
I never watch from the balcony, I do not want to be seen
And I try not to stare

But it always gives me morbid thoughts
Sometimes the parking lot is overflowing
And there are great crowds of people outside after the services
Other times there are not so many cars and people

Is that what it all comes down to?
You led a good life if your funeral is standing room only?
The longer the procession of cars to the burial site
The fuller your life was?

I imagine there will be lots of extra  parking at my internment
Please forgive my pathos and self pity
For I am a schizophrenic hermit who mostly sees the world
From the closed blinds of a fifth story window
I wonder if it would make any difference
For me to know how many people went to my services

I wonder if I will know
Or even care
If you could go to your own funeral, would you?
I have just a glimmer of hope there will be better things to do
If I am worthy when the time comes

But what is so funny is the car
Almost always parked on the side of the funeral home
A white Corvette
I hope it is the mortician's car
Because oh the irony of a mortician sporting a white Corvette!