"How do you do it?" I continued. "I can barely get that fossilized stove to boil water for coffee."Melissa was shrugging and blushing, "Well what woul... you be doing for dinner if I wasn't here to take care of you?" You'll notice," I nodded towards the counter, "that I did not leave the bag of chips in the trunk. I have my priorities straight. And chilled in that cooler is a six-pack of liquid nourishment known as sandwich-in- a-can." Gawd, my incorrigible father," she rolled her eyes. "Though. She was deaf and I, dumb. During funerals for parents and those of their era, my mind dwelt on their life summaries, what they did and didn't do. For those younger, it was their tragedy, of a life story cut short, their uncompleted actions. This funeral was of my generation, now beginning to be sporadically called to the other world, a pace that would accelerate. As the sterile, macabre platitudes of the secular service droned on, my mind wandered afar.Death, it’s final. Tomorrow the world goes. More

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