Don and the Farm
Posted by Gary Johnston
There ought to be a law that women cannot become widows until they are 113 years of age or older. After a woman reaches 113, she is entitled to become a widow and may legally murder her husband if he doesn’t die naturally.
My sister, my younger sister, my baby sister, became a widow yesterday. She is far too young to be a widow, but she did not have a choice because of her husband’s sudden interest in agriculture: he bought the farm.
Don Edward Boles, my brother-in-law, was healthy. He gave up smoking 15 years ago. He still enjoyed expensive liquor in moderation. He had not been to a doctor for 7 years.
Don wasn’t feeling well the past week. My sister finally convinced him to go for a checkup. Don went on Monday February 5. The doctor said that Don likely had the flu. Don’s blood pressure was fine, but the other test results had not come back yet.
Tuesday and Wednesday, Don’s nausea and dizziness got worse. He refused to go back to the doctor. “I’ll be alright,” said Don.
By Wednesday evening, Don was feeling better when he went to bed.
On Thursday February 8, Don got up at 7:00 a.m., and was farming by 7:40.
I never thought about Don dying. I thought about my brother and sisters dying since friends were slowly losing their brothers and sisters. I thought my brother or older sister would die first. And after they had gone, then I would die leaving my younger sister to die last. But since Don died, I no longer think that death will come in the order I suggested. It could, but my younger sister, the widow, could die first. And then my older sister or brother could die and then me. Who knows? Who the hell knows?
Good Luck with the farm, Don!