Face to Face with mortality

Dear Mortality,

You arrived at my door last week, frantically knocking.  Why can’t you call first for an appointment?  Why do you have to tiptoe past the dogs and then laugh at my shock as you scream in my ear, “Another one bites the dust?”

Wasn’t it enough that my cat continues to be a pain in my behind, or that the dogs listen to me as well as a boulder blocking the road?  No!  You have to push your way into my home when I clearly yelled back at you, “You’re not welcome here!”

Were it not for the fact that I save my documents in strange places, I would have lost the last 5000 words written on my latest book.  But that’s the least of your intrusions into my life.  A relative on hubby’s side that I’ve met once or twice didn’t live through your last visit to her home, and now you’re tormenting people, cats, and dogs on my side of the family.

I’m told that “When it rains, it pours.”  A cliche mom used to use that made me scratch my head and say, “Well, duh.”   Instead, I think that saying should read, “When it rains so much you no longer hear it, brace for a tsunami.”

Mortality, you’re like a game of spider solitaire that makes it look like you’re going to win…until the very last set of cards.  I stare at the neatly stacked columns with so much hope that are now blocked by kings and jacks.

When family isn’t dropping like flies in a Monsanto factory, we’re experiencing new and different torments.  Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?

Either send death to the door or GO AWAY!  Stop tormenting my cat with UTI’s, my sister with politics, my daughter with life’s irony’s, me with raging Tourette’s…among other plagues, and just allow us to enjoy life until we die in our sleep!