My father’s mother’s cousin’s husband died last week. I had met him several times over the years, but didn’t know him well. He was a good guy. The funeral was held in Baltimore. He served in the military so there was an honor guard and a flag ceremony to commemorate his valor. My grandmother happened to be in town, she helped with some of the arrangements.
After the funeral, she came to stay with us for the next three weeks. She’s finally retired, but she needs to get back to Buffalo, NY to plan a party, and the closet isn’t going to paint itself. As usual, she hauled an entire cooler full of food to fill our fridge with fruit, corn, steak sandwiches, lunchmeat, and everything else that could fit. Instead of letting Denise throw away Charles’ breakfast food, she brought the Raisin Bran Crunch to my parent’s house.
I’m typing this at 9:12am and I just ate a dead man’s cereal.
I mixed it with some Kashi shredded wheat (for extra health) and realized that my dad purchased that box, and he’s a future dead person. In fact, aren’t we all? Which got me wondering: Who will eat my cereal when I die?
I don’t plan on getting married or having a family, so there won’t be anyone too close to empty my pantry. I assume my parents will be gone before my time comes, maybe not, but I think that’s how they’d prefer it, so they won’t eat my leftover cereal. My sister will probably still be alive, she might even be married. Perhaps her kids would finish off Uncle Geoffrey’s old Froot Loops.
Then again, it’s always possible no one would eat my cereal when I die. A masked man might throw everything into a huge trash bag and send it to the landfill. My cereal might feed rats or ants instead of my loved ones.
Whoever eats my cereal after I have no further use for it, I hope they enjoy it. I hope it starts their day well, and gives them the energy to carry on.