My mother has been urging me to produce offspring ever since I finished school.

My neighbor Mr. Lewis had a lot of offspring. He had a wife and 5 kids and maybe a dozen grandchildren. Three generations of loved ones were at his hospital bedside when he passed away after a long battle with lung cancer.

He didn’t know it, though. He had been unconscious for several weeks, connected to a respirator and an IV drip. The prior months had been a gradual transition into death as he lost control of his faculties one at a time.

When Mr. Lewis could no longer swallow food, he refused a feeding tube. He begged his daughter to let him die. “You’ll feel better soon,” she lied.

Then he had a stroke and could no longer speak for himself. His family had the doctors insert the tube. It kept him alive for many more months.

“Who will take care of you when you get old?” my mother asks.

Medicare and Social Security will take care of me.

And when I’m ready to die, I will crawl off into the woods and quietly disappear, just like my cat did.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s