My father had a dry sense of humor and a love of food. One day, he decided to eat healthier so was training to be a representative for a national health-food company. At dad's first distributor’s conference, he took a taste of a grape-flavored protein drink and fell to the ground mid-sip, instant death.
This was very sad for our family for many years, but now that time has healed the grief, and thinking in retrospect, dying in such an ironic way would have made him chuckle. To know that he went to the other side of life by experimenting with healthy eating - I have to guess that he would be smirking.
I almost died a real stinky death myself. A large truck ran a red light at the exact moment I was driving through the green signal. It could have been quite a tragic ending, as the truck had an extended bed with full porta potties - knew they were well-used as it was an extremely hot and muggy night and my windows were down. A thick sloshing noise emanated from the truck which balanced on two wheels during a screeching turn. Words escaped as I said oh sh..! If indeed I was smashed by this vehicle, I certainly would have been covered in a layer of sticky poo. A poopy end to a life well lived.
So, walking in my father's figurative foot steps, I kind of like the idea of an eccentric end and the truck'a'poo certainly would have fit the bill. Headlines would announce that I'd been fertilized to death, proclaiming, "She had occasionally been dumped on in life, but was now truly dumped on in death. She went out with a smile and a chuckle." This is a stinky blog post, but since I enjoy storytelling, and find poo good fodder for a saga. A little spiciness in my journey.