The old man started reading the obits the day after his seventieth birthday. Glanced down at next page of the daily newspaper, and a small black and white portrait of a boy child. Looked like a losing prize fighter. His face distorted, puffy, one eye swollen shut, tongue hanging out. Poor little guy. Get the sense he had never been what you’d call healthy. Not one day. Yet, the goodness and purity shone brightly. Born on Father’s Day, David was seven months old. Rest in peace. Finally.
Obits are fascinating. The photos chosen, the relatives named, the achievements, the proclamations of love and respect. Like to guess which are lies.
Most folks pass away, some pass away peacefully. Ann, 97 years young, finished her final journey of this life. A couple enter to eternal rest. One guy simply died.
And then there’s Archie: 18 flags flew at half mast as Archie escaped to the greatest Golf Course in the Sky for his eternal tee time.
Wait, there’s more. He is survived by his two furball sons, Jake and Billy. We love you Archie and are all having two quarter pounders with cheese on your birthday.
Many surrounded by their loved ones. Guessing we don’t read much about those who say goodbye alone.
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David will always be known as a fighter who took his last glorious breaths on his own. David leaves love, happiness, and inspiration to all who knew him…
She loved animals and had a pet dog, cat, and a bird as a child. She was a devoted member of Jazzercise and sometimes attended the dance classes twice a day.
In his mind, she was everything he was not. Throughout their life, she would inspire him to better himself, beginning with the requirement that he finish high school before they married.
He was always the life of the party, and once you met him he was a friend for life. Always there to lend a helping hand no matter what it was, he was always more concerned about helping others rather than himself.
She always loved music, particularly Davey Jones and The Monkees.
He also loved fishing and would pick up a pole whenever invited to drop a line.
He gave of himself unreservedly. He had a kind soul and a glad spirit, and his joy for life was contagious. He needed only smile and the world instantly brightened. This was his special brand of magic – his positivity and generosity not only helped but also inspired.
God saw you getting tired and a cure was not to be. So he put his arms around you and whispered come with me. With tearful eyes we watched you slowly slip away. A golden heart stopped beating, hard working hands at rest. God broke our hearts to prove to us he only takes the best.
He loved animals and leaves behind his dog, Butkus, and his parrot, Wally.
When she was confined to an electric wheelchair, she would drive it up the sidewalk on Thomasville Road to go to get a manicure at the nail salon.
The wisdom behind his razor sharp wit, the deep resonance of his quick and contagious laugh, and the sheer unpredictably of his many and varied pranks made him a larger than life character.
There will be no service, however he will be truly missed.
In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Humane Society.
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In my family, traditionally, we write our own obituaries. Something about setting the record straight. Or not.
Must admit we were a little dazzled by my own mother’s millions of hours of community service. Who knew she had the time.
Not writing an obituary myself. Seems premature.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0syjecXN_no