Thanks Mom. For terrorizing me

"I hate the smell of funeral homes," I told my Mom.
"You mean the flower smell?" She was driving.
"No the quiet. How you have to be quiet."
"Well you don't really have to be."

She turned.

"How old was he?"
"81."

"That's pretty good."
"That's 12 more years for me," my Mom said.
I went hoarse. Thanks Mom.
For terrorizing me before I go into a funeral home!

I knew his name was Ignazio, I thought.I didn't know. Eddie's real name was Ignazio.
We told his family, "he looks good." Surprised.
As if anyone looked good dead.

He was the best looking corpse I had ever seen.

"Not put through so much," my Mom said.

I tried to rub the sad looks off their faces.
I rubbed their arms and shoulders. Then walked away.

I told Eddie's wife Rose the stupidest story to make her laugh. Rubbing.
"Rose, Eddie was wearing the cutest sailboat pajamas the last time I saw him."
That's how bad the story was.