For most of my adult years, I have toasted the First of the Year with bubbly and the quip, “Here’s to having cheated death another year.” Of course, nobody gets to actually cheat death; time runs out for all of us. So it goes. In three days, when I repeat this toast with Susan, I will actually mean it. Having survived a stroke with minimal residua is more like “cheating death” than anything else I have experienced.
Today, I found in my Inbox an email from Dignity Memorial. A local, large mortuary wanted to make sure that I was aware of rising funeral costs so that I could take advantage of advance planning options. I can’t say for certain, but like the vultures circling overhead, they may know something that I do not.