Upon My Demise, Grant Me These Wishes

WARNING: Dark post today. If you have ill feelings regarding the day you depart this world, please skip. Also, if you have any problems with dark humor and/or laughter associated with a grievous time, then, again, please skip. It is not my intention to offend. However, for some of my loyal followers, right now you’re clapping gleefully, impatiently awaiting this true masterpiece of a post. I’m sending you a virtual curtsy. You’re welcome.

It’s virtually impossible to speak of death without paying homage to life and health. Clearly, Kel. I understand many times what brings people into my workplace can be a very real possibility of facing their own mortality sooner than expected. Tears and words of affirmation encompass our conversations and I always share how happy I am they’ve made a decision to change their life. That first step across the threshold can literally be the difference between life and death.

In prefacing this post with the above words, now I share my humor. There is nothing funny about death or dying or someone being fearful for their own life. Nothing. What is funny to me is the litany of mistakes I’ve made during these discussions with friends that really has resulted in me establishing a bit of a bad reputation for inappropriate humor. Sam, if you’re reading this, I’m still so very sorry. Truly I should have lost friends for not being supportive in their times of need. In my defense, a simple misunderstanding or unclear communication (or both) have been the culprit. But I would be lying if I didn’t blame myself for not being able to adequately control my own laughter. Brittney H., I’m sorry, too. It really is a common part of my life. Death and laughter. It’s been happening consistently since I was 10 years old. Dad, broken record here, I’m sorry again. In case you’re still wondering, I wasn’t laughing when laughter was expected. Oh no, that would be too easy. I am a laugher at the most inopportune time.

Please have a seat and bear with me –

It all started in 1996.

Yikes. That’s a lot of years. You do the math, but it would appear I have a serious problem. An epidemic at the very least. A chronic condition of laughter. I thought laughter was the best medicine. I was….shhhhh…wrong. Haha! I’m not wrong! Laughter is the best medicine still. I stand by my opinion.

After a long and fruitful life, I’d like a few things to be remembered about me. 1) I love cookies. 2) I have the worst sense of humor. 3) I never knew what I was doing, but I had a great knack for winging it and it all working out.

Now, a few things I’d like you all to do for me at my service (oh do I have a surprise for you all! just wait! to whom is in the know – it might single-handedly be the best idea ever): 1) Please remain seated. I don’t need any of that get up/sit down/get up again nonsense. I understand respectfulness. I’m expired. No respect expected. Just wave at my family.

2) I’d like every other song to be an inappropriate song of the most inappropriateness. Example: play some Silver Wings because I think it’s a beautiful song, then play Baby Got Back because I loathe that song and it would make my best friend the happiest person alive. I’d also like it to be sing-along style so you all have to participate. Dance, too. When my twin sister (did I ever mention there’s 2 of me? no? ok, I’ll rectify this situation asap) glares at you all with her old lady eyes, dance even more inappropriately and stare back at her. It will be hilarious. Trust me. If you need other song choices, please play The Dance by Garth Brooks, then play Bad Girlfriend by Theory of a Deadman. I also would like Sunshine by Steve Azar and Ulay, Oh by How I Became the Bomb. Please follow these with Alone by Halsey and some terrible dance soundtrack from the 90s, like the Macarena. Towards the end, play some old Phil Collins, Genesis, or Foreigner, but remove the lyrics so we can see how many people still know the words.

3) Someone has to read my prepared autobiography. It can’t be my Munchkin – I will most likely embarrass her traumatically. I’ll highlight the portions to read. It will probably be lengthy. Lengthy is an understatement at this point. Can you imagine what it will look like in 10 years! All the more reason to be sitting. Bring water, too. Or wine. Can’t have you dehydrated. The remainder of the book will be for sale at the door; all proceeds benefit the Children’s Aid Society of West Texas, Inc. and the Autism Society.

Hmmmm what else? For now, this list will do. I’ll expand it as life carries me down the road. Stay tuned and feel free to chime in with your own ideas!

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I ask you –

Do you, too, have a dark sense of humor?

How do you feel about karaoke?

Favorite charities or benefactors and why?