January 2nd, 2007 06:55 EST
Final Thoughts from the Deathbed of a Cynic
As we age, our priorities change. For instance, my daily routine now consists of the following: First thing in the morning, check obituaries in the local paper. If I ain’t listed among the dearly departed, we have a go-- at least for one more day.
Unable to shake my obsession with efficiency, I always read the obituaries before taking any meds or plugging in the coffeepot. I have always been a stickler for not wasting time or energy.
Of course, scanning the obituaries can be very depressing--except when you come across the name of someone to whom you owed money. In that case, you praise the Lord for bringing that bloke home!
An obituary phrase that always leaves me puzzled is the boilerplate that reads: “He passed peacefully into the arms of the Lord, surrounded by loving members of his family.”
Every time I read that line, my mind projects to my own deathbed and what my final thoughts might be concerning those "loving" family members surrounding me:
* There’s my younger brother, Paul. Damn he’s getting fat---he should be the one croaking, not me. But he has always been someone’s favorite--looks like he’s even conned the Grim Reaper!
* And there is Ex # 1. Wonder what the hell she wants--she is not in the will. Wish I could see her old prune -face when she hears that news.
* My sister Martha is here with her laptop. Damn attorney probably plans to download my will and start fighting over my pennies once the nurse gives the high sign.
* Ex # 2--sobered up long enough to drive me mad one more time, huh? Well, since you will end up in the Hot Place, this is the last time I have to look at your ugly face! (That woman is so homely even Catholic Charities turned her away)
And finally, there is my current significant other, Millie. Wonder where she spent the night and with whom? She is also out of the will for being a two-timing, gold digging lady of ill repute.
How do I know that--that’s how I met her!
Oops! I feel a sharp pain in my chest. Nurse, hurry! Can you raise my right hand and extend my middle finger to those vultures rooting for my last breath?
One last obscene gesture and it’s adios to Millie and all the rest of my “loving" family!