When I’m Gone
A fictional short-short story
This is what I picture happening when I die.
After the initial shock, most of my husband’s shock is to prove to himself and to others that he cared deeply about me.
He amplified the fakery at the memorial, where he gave a touching eulogy. He regretted that he couldn’t, like me, summon tears. I can turn on the water works on command.
At the next AAUW meeting, they announced my death with the appropriate niceties and then went on to the meeting’s agenda. I was in AAUW for 30 years and saw it move from a networking club for college-educated women to a hard-edged activist machine.
I had retired from Planned Parenthood but having worked there for 35 years, someone found out I had died and mentioned in the breakroom. Most people had only heard of me if that, so after a few mutterings, they were back to munching.
The exception to the shrug reaction was my best friend, Beth. We could and did talk about everything. She misses me and believes she’ll never find another friend like me. I hope she does.
And as with the billions that proceeded me into the earth, it goes on.
I read this aloud on YouTube.
Marty Nemko is a career and personal coach and author of 34 books including How to Do Life. You can reach Marty at mnemko@comcast.net
