“Pat, it’s Kelly.”
“Hey, hon. What’s up?”
“When I die I need you to be in charge of my funeral.”
“Kelly, is there something you need to tell me?”
“No, don’t be silly. I’m perfectly fine. But I had a conversation with Bob last night about dying and, quite frankly, it became obvious that you’ll need to handle my funeral arrangements.”
“What did he say?”
“Well, I told him that I want to be cremated when I die. He informed me that he plans to stuff me instead. And you know if he stuffs me, he’s going to make my boobs even bigger than they are now. I’m going to end up looking like some weird-ass dead Dolly Parton look-alike.”
“Kelly, you’re crazy.”
“Maybe, but you are the most organized person I know. So I want you to make sure I get cremated and then take care of my funeral. Have a nice party aftewards. Bob will be too overcome with grief to deal with everything. I’ve got a lot of instructions written down that I’ll email you.”
“Of course you do.”
“Also, I need you to do something else.”
“What else?”
“Well, when I die, you need to let Bob mourn for about six months, then you need to find him a woman.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, Pat, I’m dead serious. Heh heh, get it? Dead serious. Anyway, I want to make sure Bob has someone to grow old with. After about six months or so of mourning, I’m worried that he’ll do something stupid. You know how men are. So I want you to get him on E-Harmony and find him a good woman.”
“I’m not sure I want that responsibility, Kelly.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve asked Victoria to do the same thing, so you’ll have help.”
“Kelly, you’re about the weirdest friend I’ve ever had.”
“True, but you love me any way, admit it.”
“I love you Kelly.”
“I love you too, Pat.”
Categories: Family, Goals, Observations
Did I say that out loud? 
Kelly – are you trying to tell us in some mad morbid way that you are dying? What makes you so sure you’re gonna kick the bucket before Bob? I’d rather just think instead of you two as passing away gently in the night – together! Besides, if you do go first, which wouldn’t be a first, helping Bob find another woman to “grow older” with will be more than a challenge than you imagine. 1) there’s only one original Kelly. I just can’t imagine anyone stepping into your shoes no matter how desperate the need. 2) by the time you do “buy the farm”, the pickings on this side will be slim to none!
No, I’m incredibly healthy, I promise. I’m just a Type A. Promise!
I need to make sure my husband never ever reads this entry or meets Bob. He doesn’t need any more ideas.
And men really are that way.
Also, if I ever take over a small country, I think I will hire you to do the planning.
I’m glad you enjoyed the story. I have been accused of being a little to “type A” on occasion. I guess this proves it.
Well do you enjoy the Type A moments? So far I am.
I think I will give Pat my instructions as well. Maybe even put together a binder with tabs for all of us. She would like that.