The Ferryman Awaits

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In light of my father’s new health issue, and possibility of eminent death, I have been chosen to write the eulogy, so we’ll be prepared when the time comes. My oldest younger brother will be giving it, even though he’ll be speaking my words. They will be fine words, indeed. There will be a short synopsis of his life, followed by a few scriptures, lest any heathens leave in the condition they came in. My brother will sell it as if he were close to my dad. He will preach and he will speak of Heavenly things, and he will not be wrong to do so. After all, isn’t that what modern man finds acceptable when in the presence of a preserved, albeit dead, body?

You’ll forgive me if I sound harsh, won’t you? The fact of the matter is that I am not happy with anything that is happening right now. I was supposed to eulogize my father, but Mom is concerned about the words I might say. She has good reason. My patience is thin from those who haven’t bothered to see him in the last decade. They now want to feign sorrow as if they’ve lost their best friend. Fuck them. If any of his grandchildren, great or otherwise, shed one tear at that funeral, I fully intend to knock the living shit out of them. They never cared for my father. They’ve spent their whole lives listening of tales about him…of things he did a lifetime ago. Nevermind that he’s lived in redemption longer than they’ve been on this planet. I’m so angry right now that I could spit.

All I’m saying is that this is no time for pageantry, or photo ops with the grandkids. Nobody gives a shit about your fake ass Louboutins or how good your little monster is doing in school. Teach her to respect her elders lately? I didn’t think so. My dad has nine grandkids and an enormous number of greats. Out of all of them, (including my boys, with whom I am also disgusted), none of them sees him except on holidays. Yep…they are Johnny on the spot when they’re going to be stuffing themselves, or tearing through gifts like animals. I cannot say enough to express my disgust. I’m the only one who has always seen him and been close to him. I’m the only one he raised. That’s not my fault, or his. Even so, you’d think one of these good Christian folks could carve out a lil time for, not only their grandfather, but for their brother in Christ.

My brother is going to text me a few scriptures that he’d like highlighted in the eulogy. I can’t wait to see which ones. I may include a ‘stand and share’ portion. lol! Oh, my, that would be wonderful! I am certain that my mother would see to it that was edited out, but I’d love a chance to say what I think to all of those people, at once.

I’d better get going. I have a eulogy to write…

 

 

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