There comes a time in every person’s life when they have a face-to-face experience with death itself. Whether or not that individual’s life hourglass is up, that is for me to decide, for I am Death. I visit many people daily as they take their last breaths and aid in a comfortable, reassuring passing. Unfortunately, much of the population still believes in my common stereotype, which is that I am terrifying and take pleasure in relieving people of their life. This assumption however, is wrong. My job is to direct people's souls to the correct destination and ensure that there are no mix-ups or complications, though I often find myself having to return to the deceased’s loved ones to tell them that their loved one is safe and where he or she belongs. One of my more recent cases happened just last week. Thankfully I was able to comfort the family. Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself here. Let me explain.

     Last week, I visited a family of five with two girls and one boy. I had been informed the boy was ill, so I came to offer my services, and upon getting approval, I took the child with me in order to cease his suffering. Heaven was far more suitable for the blue-eyed, rosy cheeked kid. So naturally, I dropped the kid off at the gate and went to tend to another patient of mine, only to learn that the kid had been put on the waiting list. After a meeting with God, I went back to the boy’s family because in order for the child to enter heaven, his mother would have to stop grieving. I was honestly kind of annoyed. No one had informed me of the new terms and conditions, but whatever. I arrived at the family’s house that night and asked the mother if she wished to see her boy off. Following a twenty minute coaxing, she agreed, and I took her up to heaven to say goodbye to her son. When we arrived, the boy ran up to his mother and hugged her. His mom asked if he was enjoying himself, and he responded, “I can’t go in until you let me go Mom.” Upon hearing her son say those words, she burst into tears. I myself had to wipe a couple of stray tears as well. The boy and his mom spent a few more minutes together. Then the woman turned to me and said she was ready to let her son go and she would return home.

     “Splendid!” I said and brought us back to the humble little house from where I taken the boy’s mother. I wished her well and departed for another person’s home to continue my never-ending mission.

     Normally, I wouldn’t remember a job like that, but that case made such an impact on me, that I can’t help but thinking about it. I guess the moral of the story is, people need to learn to let their loved ones go. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another child to assist. Toodaloo!