Mom messages me in FB tonight. Private message, because she doesn't want one of her fourteen friends on Facebook to see it. Seems a neighbor across the street passed away.
Mom does that. Keeps us up to date on the important stuff. My warped sense of humor kicks in.
Mom: I just found out Bill across the street passed away last Sunday...he was 81, and 4 others have passed away in the park. (No mom doesn't live on a bench in a park, that is what they call a mobile home enclosure in California, it sounds more pastoral.)
Me: Sorry for Bill, mom... (and his wife too). You better hope it's not an epidemic.
Yep, I said that to my mom. You are probably saying I am awful. Actually, mom has told me that several times too.
But mom laughed...actually she typed lol, but I knew she was smiling...then she adds:
"the bulletin said most of them died from pneumonia. I had mine last year. lol."
So now you see I come by it honestly. Mom can actually joke about being in the hospital and almost dying with pneumonia.
I was laying there in bed, reading this on my iPhone (an insomnomaniac's best friend). As I lay there thinking, I suddenly got hit by a thought, or series of thoughts...
What kind of park bulletin is it that gives the residents a death list, and causes? Dang, you are talking about a bunch of people who are living with the grim reaper in their closets, so why add insult to injury and rub their noses in it?
I mean, shouldn't they be listing squirrel sightings, who just put up a new lamp post, or who just got new teeth... something benign and cheery like that?
This place sounds more and more like Pet Semetary...and my mom's the resident poodle...