2002-10-22 11:18
IC #3: My Somewhat Untimely Death
February 26, 2064
Magpie's Spiritual Advisor gives her eulogy.
We gather today to remember Magpie, a self-proclaimed nutty old bat and a true friend.
Magpie wasn't really worried about death; the idea of no longer existing, or of being forgotten when those around her died, didn't really trouble her. What she was afraid of was pain, and of losing her mind.
She confided in me how much it scared her to see so many of her relatives die of Alzheimer's and of strokes. The minute she heard about gene therapy treatments to prevent Alzheimer's, she was down at her doctor's office asking about it, and she was one of the first to sign on for the clinical trials.
And she was so grateful that they worked, and that she was not only able to live a long life but that her body started to go before her mind.
So on the day that she passed, she wasn't exactly done with life, but I think she knew she'd had a good run. I passed her last latte to her across the counter, and she waved goodbye and went to cross the street. She must have realized she'd forgotten her wallet, because she turned around just as the truck came barreling towards her. She looked briefly surprised as she was hit, but then she was at peace.
As you can see, Magpie's grandnephews are unloading the last of her impressive liquor cabinet on the back table. Even though her Irish relatives came to the US ages ago, she still wanted a rollicking Irish wake, and to be remembered in joy, not sadness.
For those of you who don't drink, we have coffee, courtesy of my manager at Peet's, the only church Magpie ever attended. Please have a drink and share your stories about Magpie with each other.
Also by the back table you'll see several cartons of Magpie's books. The family has already pulled out the ones that they wanted, so please look through and see if there are any you'd like to keep. We also have two more of Magpie's cats to adopt out, so if you have room, please talk to the grandnephews.
-=-
"Hey, what's going on? Where did all these clouds come from? Bro! What are you doing here?"
"Didn't you see that truck? Mag, I told you you really should have been more careful."
"Dude!" I said, reverting to my long-gone youth, "I was almost 95! Besides, it's kind of moot now, isn't it?"
My brother sighs quietly.
"But you know, this isn't so bad. All my aches and pains are gone. Also, my bifocals are gone, but my vision's clearing up on its own. Hey, are my boobs going to perk up too?"
"Come on, everyone's waiting for you. Mom and Dad can't wait to see you. Also, Grandpa wants to talk to you. He's mad that you never had kids."
"Uh-oh.."
And we disappear into the clouds.