My father had a dry
sense of humor and a love of food. One
day, he decided to eat healthier so was training to be a representative for a
national health-food company. At dad's first
distributor’s conference, he took a taste of a grape-flavored protein drink and
fell to the ground mid-sip, instant death.
This was very sad for
our family for many years, but now that time has healed the grief, and thinking
in retrospect, dying in such an ironic way would have made him chuckle. To know that he went to the other side of
life by experimenting with healthy eating - I have to guess that he would be smirking.
I almost died a real
stinky death myself. A large truck ran a
red light at the exact moment I was driving through the green signal. It could have been quite a tragic ending, as
the truck had an extended bed with full porta potties - knew they were
well-used as it was an extremely hot and muggy night and my windows were
down. A thick sloshing noise emanated
from the truck which balanced on two wheels during a screeching turn. Words escaped as I said oh sh..! If indeed I was smashed by this vehicle, I
certainly would have been covered in a layer of sticky poo. A poopy end to a life well lived.
So, walking in my
father's figurative foot steps, I kind of like the idea of an eccentric end and
the truck'a'poo certainly would have fit the bill. Headlines would announce that I'd been
fertilized to death, proclaiming, "She had occasionally been dumped on in
life, but was now truly dumped on in death.
She went out with a smile and a chuckle." This is a stinky blog post, but since I enjoy
storytelling, and find poo good fodder for a saga. A little spiciness in my journey.
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