Nothing happened in the audience when my sons spoke. When the pastor arrived, she led my immediate family of around 28 people to speak a few words of farewell to me. Things started drying out, as I oxidized, cracks started showing and colors looked odd… I ended up looking like what I was… something not alive… something dead. The make-up team did their best, but after 19 days of refrigeration and also due to my ancientness, artificiality did not win over the course of life. The funeral parlor staff and the make-up artists had been here before any of my people and made sure I looked decent, not like a corpse. I was pleased to see that my family members started arriving after 9am, prepping and working together to celebrate and remember my life. Only very occasionally, when the weather was cold and my body ached and I could not do certain things, then, maybe she does actually help me, but in my mind, I still know she was an excess and not needed. I appreciate her help, but really most of the time she was there, I figured I could do everything myself… there was really no need of her. When I remember, I will let you guys know. Sometimes on a good day when I felt well, I protected myself by using my wit to reply her in a cheeky way, but I no longer recall what I said to her.
When she fed me, she kept yelling at me to wake up, sit up, or not to spit unchewables… I assume for outsiders it sounded like she was abusing an old person, because there were several occasions when she swore to me in several unknown languages. She helped me with showering and dressing and kept me squeaky clean and pleasantly scented like Johnson’s Baby. Although she was lazy and was on the phone quite a bit, she was also bossy and attentive like me. I am not quite sure, but I feel that I suspected her least. Towards the end of my life on earth, there was a young girl of around 20 years old who looked after me. Some of the maids I really did not like, I thought they kept looking around my place and stole my valuables. That was a huge bliss to me, but definitely a burden for them. Moreover, I told my children to send me to a home, but they didn’t.
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C'mon! I did all mine plus the farm, too. My first story is about the maids… I told my daughter eagle not to hire maids, in fact, one was too many, but she got two! Firstly, you really should do your own work and not rely on people. I have decided to recall some of my life stories before my brain betrays me and I, too, forget. I have passed, but I am 103 and with only 60 or so pre-death entries on this tumbler, it feels so illogical.
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