Ouch!

Even in the bleakest of situations I can usually find something to laugh about; at the very least there is irony or fodder for biting sarcasm. For example, at the age of 22, I was visiting with my bedridden grandfather while everyone else was off at a family wedding. He was reminiscing about "the old country" when he suddenly stopped talking and declared that he was thirsty. I left the room to get him some water and returned moments later to find him dead. Hysterical, I rushed to the phone and called my then-fiance-- who I later married and then divorced, and who could blame me-- and he said, "Boy, he must have been really thirsty!" We both laughed, even with Grampa dead in the bed beside me.

The comedy continued the next day at my grandfather's funeral service when they wheeled his coffin into the small chapel of the funeral home. I went to see him one last time, and was shocked to see it was not my grandfather in there at all, but a completely different dead person, about 20 years younger to boot. I rushed to inform the funeral home director of the error, but he insisted that I was wrong. "Grief does that to people, you're confused, " he said. "And besides, people look very different in death." While he nattered on about how I was mistaken, a woman in the neighboring chapel began wailing and screaming about how much older her dead husband Morty looked. "I'm pretty sure she's got my grandfather, " I said to the funeral home director.

Funny stuff, those dead grandfathers. So much funnier than shoulder surgery for a torn rotator cuff, which my husband underwent three days ago and which resulted in his two-day hospital stay, swallowing enough painkillers to choke not just one horse but all the horses in the Kentucky Derby. I have nothing funny to say about that. In fact, forget I mentioned it--just read the dead grandfather stuff again. And have a nice day. :)