One day, my grandmother felt dizzy, and the paramedic who arrived in the ambulance decided not to take any chances and whisked her off to the hospital.
There, they made it clear that at her age, gallivanting about to the theatre with her elderly friends was downright improper. Death wasnt far off, and it was only right to meet it properlyin her own bed, not at a poker game with a mate.
Grandma decided to approach dying with thoughtfulness and style. First, she stocked up on enough medicine to fill her bedside cabinet. The room soon carried the lingering scent of lavender drops. Second, she put us all under pressure, sacrificing our time and sanity, to assist in her grand departure. She fussed, demanded new prescriptions, and called for the doctor one minute, the solicitor the next.
Mum was run ragged trying to keep up with her whims, all while gently insisting it wasnt quite her time yet. Grandma would just roll her eyes and ask for another dose of her drops.
Then one afternoon, her old friend Mabel dropped by. Thankfully, I was there to witness it.
Heard youve finally decided to kick the bucket, Mabel boomed in her gravelly voice. Good on you. Someones got to scout the other side first. But tell me truedo you really plan to lie in your coffin looking like that?
Grandma muttered that she didnt care how she looked in the box.
Well, *you* might not care, Mabel shot back, but *I* have to look at it! WorseIll have to kiss it! What will people think? Theyll turn up expecting a respectable funeral and feel downright cheated. I couldnt face them!
Whats it to them? Grandma huffed.
Because theyll come thinking theyre burying Mabels friend, and Mabel doesnt associate with just anyone. If they see you like this, theyll think weve swapped the corpse and take offence! And why all these pills? Poisoning yourself, are you?
Im easing my suffering, Grandma protested.
Youre wrecking your liverand a bad liver gives you a ghastly complexion. Want people to flee in horror when they see you laid out?
Grandma considered this and agreed a healthy glow was preferable in a coffin. Mabel nodded and suggested a brisk walk to work up a rosy flushvery striking on a deathbed.
I gaped as my supposedly dying grandmother shuffled out of bed and into the shower for the first time in weeks. Meanwhile, Mabel, wrinkling her nose, ordered me to strip the sheets for the wash and fix them both strong coffeeswith a generous splash of brandy for good measure.
A little brandy, she explained, was excellent for the nerves and circulation. And in that infamous coffin, one ought to have steady nerves and a strong heart.
Mabel took such a keen interest in Grandmas impending funeral that she spent weeks preparing her for it. They visited the hairdresser, the masseuse, and the beauty salon. They shopped sales, buying all sorts of lovely things for the afterlifea veiled hat, gloves, a bit of makeup.
Now, Grandmas no longer worried about her send-offshe knows itll be top-notch. To pass the time, shes back to her old routines: visiting friends, poker nights, and cheerful picnics. She says if Deaths so keen, it can come find her.
Though, so far, the old reapers not in a hurryseems Grandmas complexion still isnt quite up to snuff.
