Celebrating a Long Life

A spry widow named Rose, known for a ready smile and a good joke, giggled
incessantly about everything. She carried a glint in her eye and a bounce in her gate,
like a jolly leprechaun on his first date.

Rose, well known and loved in her retirement community, was given a surprise one-hundredth year birthday party. Everyone just adored Rose, and couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say about marriage after so many years. Everyone knew she had outlived four husbands, and yet, here she was enjoying herself like a teenager. As if she was fifteen years again.

She made her way to the front of the room as everyone applauded, knowing they were in for a treat. Someone shouted, “Come on, Rosie, tell us your secret.” Rosie giggled her famous giggle and then smiled as she cleared her throat and began to speak.

My FIRST husband’s name was Alfred. He was a prominent banker from Baltimore. We were happily married for eight years until poor Alfred suddenly keeled over dead from a heart attack. But he left me very well off…dear, sweet Alfred.

My SECOND husband, Alowishus, was the ringmaster of a three-ring circus. Al and I traveled
the world bringing joy and happiness to so many children and their parents. Unfortunately, one day my dear sweet, Alowishus, was taken from me in a hit n run accident with a clown. The clowns were performing in their funny cars and the fire-engine ran right smack dab into poor Al, as his back was turned, watching an escaped monkey climb to the top of the tent.

My THIRD husband, Cromwell, was a well-known lawyer and CPA estate planner from Philadelpia. Cromwell was always talking about the future and how he was helping people plan for their futures. From Cromwell, I learned many things about investing and together we built  a diverse portfolio to protect us always. Poor, Cromwell, slowly lost his mind, even forgetting about me, as he sank into a horrible demenia, finally dying in the Happy Hills assisted living facility. If I can say one final thing about Cromwell, he was a good man and together we built an excellent financial plan for our future. She concluded, cackling, you know what they say, “Accounts never die, they simply loose their balance.”

And finally, my FORTH husband, Igor, undertaker and funeral home director at the “Best Slice of Life Funeral Home.” I used to assist, Igor, preparing the corpses for their final trip. I would apply the face powder and the rouge, pluck their eyebrows and apply lipstick to make them look beautiful. And for the men, I would put them in their finest suits, comb their hair and make them look almost alive. Alas, after some years, one day there was a terrible accident. Igor was pulling a coffin of a particularly robust gentleman, much like Henry Fitzherbert,
out of his Hearse and he pulled too hard and the coffin flew right out and crushed poor Igor to death.

There was absolute silence as everyone listened spell bound to Rose. When she finished, she also became quiet.  And then, after awhile, she perked up and said, “After telling you this story and reflecting upon it, I can summize my married life like this:

“ONE for the MONEY, TWO for the SHOW, THREE to get READY and FOUR to GO”

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