Fifty Ways

I like the idea of writing my obituary in the first person. I have composed a few drafts of such an obituary. It has been fun recalling memories from my youth and of raising my children, and thinking about the 8,590 or so days that Chrissy and I have been together, even former occupations and the friends I have made along the way. 

It would begin something like this; If you’re reading this, you waited too long to call me; I can’t do lunch, I’m dead. If you like, you can stop by the mortuary and look at me for a spell. There’s even going to be a party after the service. I’ll leave details at the end of this obituary. 

The one part I can’t write is the way it all ends. It would be nice if I could write my own ending, but what would I write? There must be 50 ways to write your ending.

I  missed a corner driving through the mountains while on vacation.

My heart exploded while shoveling the snow with that stupid new electric snow shovel. 

I fell down the steps after tripping on one of Sophie the wonder cat’s toys.

I was eaten by a shark while swimming in the warm blue water off the coast of St. Somewhere. 

Apparently those weren’t mushrooms on my pizza.

I accidentally locked myself inside a self cleaning oven. That’ll save money on cremation, though some of the ashes could be from last night’s dinner. 

A piano fell on my head.

My gold mine collapsed on me.

I fell in the pen and the hogs ate me.

I died with a smile while in the loving embrace….

I like that last one the best.

Feel free to add to my list. It looks like I need about another 40 ways.

Articles written by Jonathan after his diagnosis lay out a road map that you can use to make things easier for your family. That’s what I would like to do as well. I have made use of WillMaker software to prepare wills, transfer on death affidavits for real estate, letter of instruction, health directives, POAs, and more. I have consolidated accounts. I am making an attempt to unload things that have some meaning to me, but won’t for anyone else, and all my accounts name the proper beneficiaries. 

Monty Python aficionados will recognize the next line. “I’m not dead yet”, but no matter the cause of my demise, I want to do all I can now, so that Chrissy and the kids won’t have to do anything except crank up the music and pay for the party after I’m gone.