I envy my father. He grew up in an era where rock and roll was still new, a family could survive on one income, and we let grandparents die while they were still fun. It was a glorious era, where you could go from throwing a ball with your Granddaddy behind a church, to burying your Granddaddy behind that same church a week later. And after each there was a nice chicken dinner. It was awesome.
He loved God, his family, and dessert
Death still hurt, but for most people it came suddenly. It was a surprise that left you only with the memories of a person’s life, and their sudden kupГіny manhunt exit.
Now science has removed the sudden peacefulness of death, and we can prolong life until it no longer resembles life. Personally life has always been about quality, not quantity, but thanks to the miracle of science mortality is now a hot dog eating contest. Get as much as you can, dignity be damned.
I learned my Granddaddy had Parkinson’s when I was still in grade school. For a long time it meant he shook sometimes, was a little slow, and sometimes he would space out. He used to fall asleep all the time while watching TV, and when someone would wake him he’d refuse to admit to it.
My Granddaddy was a great man. He was smart, spiritual, and responsible. When one of his grandchildren went out for a job interview he told them to never go without wearing a watch, so they would know you knew the value of time.
Once he was fired from an accounting job because he refused to falsify documents. To make ends meet he started selling insurance door to door. One day he came home from work and my Mema asked him how his sales day had gone. It turned out that he’d met a family that day where the husband had just lost his job and couldn’t afford to pay their bills, let alone buy insurance. My Granddaddy gave the man all the money in his wallet. Continue Reading No Man Should Be Remembered In Sweatpants