“I simply can’t get over it.
How could they write such drivel about me? It must have been that daughter-in-law; what’s-her-name. Um, Mathilda! Yes, I bet it was Mathilda; she couldn’t wait for me to go, skulking about the cottage, lurking near the jewelry box. She kept on and on at my poor son, the dolt. I told him not to marry her but there he went, falling for that helpless act of hers. I told him I didn’t like her but oh, no–he just had to marry her. I am however happy about my granddaughter. I bet Mathilda had them put my age in there. Really; 84?! I’m not a day over 79; go look at my birth certificate if you don’t believe me. And to say that I am, er, was one of the oldest residents of the municipality! Well, I never.
And then that bit about fifth generation removed. What’s that all about?! When the girls read that, they’ll think I’ve been hiding a scandal, like I was not a close member of my family, or I married my fifth cousin or something. Rubbish! If I could just get up and out of here, I’d go tell that Mathilda a thing or two. She would rue the day she married into this clan.
I simply can’t get over it, I tell you Peter. Anyway, you say we’re going to see my husband now? Will there be tea? I could use a tea. And do you have flowered cups? A nice cup of tea in a lovely cup with my husband. Now that will take the chill off. Can you all tell the future? Will Mathilda make it in? Can you tell me when? I could save up and tell her when she gets here if that would be better.”
St. Peter shook his head. So much anger they come with sometimes, he thought.
Our Story A Day prompt today asked us to write a story based on an obituary.
DISCLAIMER: I didn’t want to go too modern or too close to home so I visited Trove, the “digitised newspaper” sight for Australia, and came upon this little gem from 1934. I was tempted to write about the Bishop of Ripon, located on the same page, but loved the jarring distraction of “fifth generation removed.” I don’t know if there are any statutes of limitations on the use of obituaries, but I am hoping that my little story does not offend any relatives, living or expired.