Friday, October 15, 2010
Post Seventy-Nine: No Wise Man Ever Wished to be Younger.
What is up with that dogs eyes?
ANYWAY, my birthday is on Monday. I just had a conversation with my father and the last thing he said to me was 'Remember, I need some grandchildren Sarah. Hurry them up. Get married."
Dad, I understand your intent to see me happy, but really... REALLY? I have no sperm, for one. Then, I have no money, no self control and no patience. Sorry pops, but in the next 365 days I highly doubt that any fruit will be beared from these humble loins. Gross.
So I won't be adding to the population this year, but I sure as hell will be taketh-ing away. It was weird today as I prepared four bodies; two ladies and two men to be buried or cremated on my birthday. I'll be at work eating cakes and goodies and wearing a little celebratory pointy hat and they'll be heading six feet under. My happy day is their very very sad day. I've always thought of October 18 as the best day of the year but for Bruce, Betty, Jessica and Williams's families, the day will forever be marked by loss.
Happy new year, ol' body of mine.