Dear Son

Dear Son,

When I don’t know you’re my child, please put me down, would you? I mean, I suppose if I think you’re a kindly neighbor, you can keep me alive, as long as I’m otherwise alert. But if I don’t recognize you at all – ever – then toss a little extra sleep aid in my water, please.

If I have no sense of time at all – if I wander around the nursing home hallways all night long and keep having to be walked back to my bed – please smother me, would you? I didn’t say “choke”. I don’t want to have handprints on my neck so you land in jail, but just a soft comfy pillow to my face, if you please.

If I’m all full of cancer, please don’t make me go through chemo. Instead, put me on a plane to Mexico. I’d like a pineapple full of rum, please. With an umbrella.

If I can’t play Sudoku or do crosswords anymore, life just isn’t worth living. I suppose if I can Scrabble, you can keep me around, but otherwise, please put me out of my misery.

I know it’s all the rage to put Pacemakers in 93-year-olds, but I’ve never been much for trends. My heart will stop beating when it’s tired, and I prefer you just let it go to sleep. No one likes being waked when they’re tired.

Remember when Old Yeller got bitten by that snake and had to be shot, so he wouldn’t become rabid and kill his family? That was sad, but it was the right thing to do, don’t you think? Well, same with me. When I get attacked by a snake of an illness, you had best shoot me, or I’m coming after you.

Now, don’t you worry.  I’m not planning on dying anytime soon.  But I can’t wait until I’m fully demented to tell you what to do when I’m fully demented, can I?

All my love,

Mom