My youngest brother, who was there at the time, said it went like this:
On his 90th birthday, Pop said with a lilt in his voice, “Always hoped I’d make it to 90.”
[deep, throaty sigh]
[loooooong pause]
Then he very softly continued, “Hope I don’t make it to 91.”
Trevor’s fiction and non-fiction have appeared in print and digital publications since the 1970s. He’s a mononymous, multiple award-winning, full-time entertainer who likes hyphens. See more at trevorthegamesman.com.
wrenching
A really good one. Love it.
Thanks, Martha. As you may very well know, Pop passed 3 weeks before is 91st.
Insightful.
91 is tough. It took me a couple of years to get over it.
Hope you have many more to get over, Gene.
My mother can relate. Thanks Trevor.
Thanks for you comment, Tamara. Here’s an unpublished one I wrote about my mom’s death:
Death by the Numbers (a true story)
by Trevor
100% of her joys gone:
Husband of 61 years died 7 months ago.
Her 8 children scattered, infighting.
Reading: 0.
Writing: 0.
Taste: 0.
Knows her mind is nearing 0.
1 morning wakes saying, “I’m sick of this.”
Just toast and tea until she purposely dies 2 weeks later.