LIFE|HUMOR

I’m Writing My Own Obituary

Because there’s no need to sugarcoat or add fluff to my life. I was not the loving daughter of anyone.

Image created in Canva by me :)

For some odd reason, my father’s obituary came up in conversation the other day. My sister sent it to me, and I reread it. He died a few years ago — when exactly, I’m not really sure.

I hated my father and couldn’t wait for the day he died. I cried tears of joy when he finally did—one more useless human being off the planet.

Anyway, like most obituaries, it stated “loving father of…” bla bla bla, and, oh, here’s a good one, “complete love for his family.” Puke.

Gimme a fucking break. My father didn’t love most of his family. The only people he loved were his oldest daughter and two of his six grandchildren, my son being one of them.

That’s it, that’s all.

Can you guess who wrote his obituary? If you guessed my oldest sister, you’re right. Sorry, I don’t have any prizes for you.

It got me thinking

I’m tired of reading obituaries where the writer goes on and on about how wonderful this person was, how much love they had for their family and other nonsense.