Now, it occurs to me, that once we are dead, it would appear that we have very little control over either our epitaphs or our obituaries.
It is true, that I might recover. Miracles do still occur. But I must face facts and so must you, my dear, brave listeners. The next door that I knock upon, is most likely to be Death’s. And if I don’t knock first, the Grim Reaper himself will be calling round this evening, or possibly, if I hang on to life by a thread, in the early hours of the morning.
So far, there has been no comment from the Vatican.
You see dear listener, I am dying. Wow, how I am dying. Typing this in my weak and frail condition, is indeed an effort. But I sense your gratitude and it almost humbles me, almost.
Hardly a sentence goes by, without me having to pause and give way to one of my many symptoms. I could list them, but no, how selfish that would be. My bravery alone is all you need to know at this difficult time. In this day of on-line everything, I enlisted the help of the All-Knowing One, the god Google. And the collected wisdom of this multi-billion dollar brain? Well I seem to have all the fevers – Lassa Fever, Scarlet Fever, even Saturday Night Fever.
I will continue to leak profusely from many orifices, until there is more of me outside, than there is inside. (Sorry, were you taking tea)?
And so it befalls on me at this time, to leave you with some parting words. Understandably, there will probably be a spontaneous and near hysterical out-pouring of public grief – I think three days of official public mourning should do it, don’t you? As for my Lying in State, well I suggest that Hades might make a suitable occasion and venue.
We don’t need a Book of Condolence, this weblog will suffice, but hopefully some kind soul will start a second one when this one reaches its inevitable maximum.
Well, I can write no more. My frailty overwhelmeth me. Besides which I have to go get more tissues.
This cold’s a bugger.