Like, I was friends with this woman's son all the way back to high school, and I went over and I helped him go through all her stuff (not an easy task: she was a pack rat who saved everything, and it took two weeks to get the place in order). But I didn't really say anything to him. Nothing stupid, I mean, like "At least she's not suffering". Because I'm thinking right now that in his mind he was totally wishing her back to life...and if he could wish her back to life, then he could totally wish that she wan't in agony. And anyway, the last thing someone needs, when they're thinking that a loved one recently died, is to also be reminded that they suffered in hellish torment. Or sometimes people say like "It was God's will..." Because even if you believe that that's true, it's small comfort. And even though I do personally believe in God an forgiveness and mercy, I'm not sure I believe that He wants us all to suffer in agony and die.

 

People always ask stupid questuions when people they don't know die. They always ask how old was she and what did she die from, like that really matters. Does it make a difference whether she died from cancer or got hit by a bus? And why, if it's cancer, do people always always always want to know if she smoked?

 

Do living people somehow take comfort in their belief that dead people somehow contributed to their own death? Do they think somewhere in the back of their minds that it won't happen to them? That if the dead guy was a gay Haitan IV drug user who installed asbestos at a tobacco factory, that they can feel safe because they're none of those things, and nevermind the fact that no matter what they do they're going to die someday anyway?

 

Now, my friend who died, let's just call her Di, had a living will (note: to anyone reading this whose name is actually Di, be assured that the previous statement was in no way a reference to you; I just thought it would be funny to call her "Di" because she had actually died, the same way the guy I work with says that if he was a woman lawyer he would want to be named "Sue"....it's called irony, look it up). Now, while I understand the concept of a living will and the need for one, I just totally think it has a misleading name. I don't have a living will, I think because whenever anyone talks about getting one, all I can ever think is that it's a good thing Steve Austin didn't have one. I know he's a fictional character and all, but I just think about all the hours of enjoyment I would have missed out on as a child if Steve Austin had died in that very first episode of The Six Million Dollar Man. And come to think of it, would they even have made the show at all, because it wouldn't have been more than like 10 minutes long.

 

I don't want to have a living will that says not to keep me alive by artificial means. I want to have one that says to only keep me alive if I can have super-powers. But then I should stipulate that I don't want to be an ugly freak or a robot that can't score heavy  with the babes or a disembodied head floating in a jar. And I want to look like a normal guy, and not a bug or a dog or a monkey. And I don't want to have to work for a secret government agency, unless I can be really really rich doing it.

 

I'm pretty sure that there is no such thing as a bionic will, or if it would be legal if I had one drawn up.

 

It's hard being me, and having to deal with death and funerals and cleaning out your friend's apartment, and all the while thinking about the bionic man and stuff. Apparently, to other, normal people, cheesy sci-fi is not a part of the grieving process.

 

Speaking of sci-fi, there is a process now by which you can get yourself freeze-dried. It's kind of like taxidermy, where you look like a little statue and they can set you on the porch or at the dinner table and just leave you there forever. It's also bad form, apparently, to bring up this new technology while you're helping to clean out your recently dead friend's apartment.

 

And you may think all of this is in poor taste, but she would not have. She would have been laughing right along with me. I used to be able to call her up and talk about Star Trek and Spiderman. She loved Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. She would have loved my wildly inappropriate social gaffes, so I don't feel so bad, somehow. Even though I miss her.