One of my more macabre and long-standing games that enliven an early morning lie-in a deux, is to muse on what I want put on my headstone.
My favourite, for a couple of years now, is, 'She Made Herself Laugh.' Just that. The irony is, that I have no intention of having a headstone, or any permanent memorial at all. I want my ashes scattered quietly and illicitly in Buckholt Woods near Cranham, where some of my quietest and most illicit activities have taken place. (When I was a LOT younger, naturally. See, it's all a joke to me, even if it's only my ghost that will be laughing out loud. You hear me laughing now, don't you?)
Reflection. I bet you thought I was about to engage in some deep though-provoking musings with life-changing potential. Didn't you? You may even have decided not to read this piece at all, as we all have had it up to here ^^^ with thought provoking musings with life changing potential, haven't we?
I was looking in the mirror this morning ( At last! And not even a good one: they rarely are, that's not the point... .) I was looking in the mirror this morning and an old lady stared back at me.
"Why, hello!" I said, caught somewhat by surprise. "Where did YOU come from?"
There was no reply, naturally. I may be old, but I'm not delusional. Yet.
It was a pivotal moment. I could have attempted to massage away the bags under my eyes, or tried to disguise the wrinkles with make-up ... (And I MAY! I reserve the right!) I might have began a rueful dialogue on the missed opportunities of a lost youth. I didn't do THAT, because I have a habit of taking opportunities, and even making, them if there are none around... .
After a pause, I continued the conversation with the old woman in the mirror:
"Let's not fight," I said, "You can come along for the ride, but you have to promise me that you'll laugh at my puns."
We both smiled, identical smiles, broadly. I'd go as far as to say, very broadly indeed.