Humor Fiction posted May 14, 2021 |
''Eulogy'' with a TWIST: 104 years in the making
OWED to her Sister
by Elizabeth Emerald
As my friend Scott says: You can't fix the world but you can brighten your corner.
Scott religiously, and secularly, lives by his maxim.
He does repair work for local churches and mows their lawns.
He hosts missionaries in his small house (most of which is devoted to his vacuum repair shop). The guests get the bedroom; Scott sleeps on a cot in the basement.
Scott scouts out lonely housebound neighbors of neighbors of neighbors and pays them weekly visits.
One of his regular adoptees, June, died several years ago, in the aftermath of a stroke, at the age of 106.
Scott was determined to arrange a proper funeral, despite that June's two children, in their eighties, resided in the dementia ward of an assisted living facility.
He managed to track down June's only surviving sister. (In keeping with the theme, I'll call her May.) After considerable finagling, Scott arranged transport for May, age 104, who lived 60 miles north.
Scott rounded up a few of June's acquaintances, and corralled his pastor to conduct the service.
After the Reverend Lawrence read the psalms that Scott had selected, he invited the audience, such as it was, to share reminiscences of June.
May stood up, grasped the bars of her walker, and hobbled her way to the minister's side. She turned to the audience and said:
Ding dong, the witch is dead.
As my friend Scott says: You can't fix the world but you can brighten your corner.
Scott religiously, and secularly, lives by his maxim.
He does repair work for local churches and mows their lawns.
He hosts missionaries in his small house (most of which is devoted to his vacuum repair shop). The guests get the bedroom; Scott sleeps on a cot in the basement.
Scott scouts out lonely housebound neighbors of neighbors of neighbors and pays them weekly visits.
One of his regular adoptees, June, died several years ago, in the aftermath of a stroke, at the age of 106.
Scott was determined to arrange a proper funeral, despite that June's two children, in their eighties, resided in the dementia ward of an assisted living facility.
He managed to track down June's only surviving sister. (In keeping with the theme, I'll call her May.) After considerable finagling, Scott arranged transport for May, age 104, who lived 60 miles north.
Scott rounded up a few of June's acquaintances, and corralled his pastor to conduct the service.
After the Reverend Lawrence read the psalms that Scott had selected, he invited the audience, such as it was, to share reminiscences of June.
May stood up, grasped the bars of her walker, and hobbled her way to the minister's side. She turned to the audience and said:
Ding dong, the witch is dead.
Scott religiously, and secularly, lives by his maxim.
He does repair work for local churches and mows their lawns.
He hosts missionaries in his small house (most of which is devoted to his vacuum repair shop). The guests get the bedroom; Scott sleeps on a cot in the basement.
Scott scouts out lonely housebound neighbors of neighbors of neighbors and pays them weekly visits.
One of his regular adoptees, June, died several years ago, in the aftermath of a stroke, at the age of 106.
Scott was determined to arrange a proper funeral, despite that June's two children, in their eighties, resided in the dementia ward of an assisted living facility.
He managed to track down June's only surviving sister. (In keeping with the theme, I'll call her May.) After considerable finagling, Scott arranged transport for May, age 104, who lived 60 miles north.
Scott rounded up a few of June's acquaintances, and corralled his pastor to conduct the service.
After the Reverend Lawrence read the psalms that Scott had selected, he invited the audience, such as it was, to share reminiscences of June.
May stood up, grasped the bars of her walker, and hobbled her way to the minister's side. She turned to the audience and said:
Ding dong, the witch is dead.
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