My oncologist tells me it’s time to get serious about the prospect of dying, and I’m taking his advice. I decided long ago that wringing my hands won’t help, nor would clinging to the bedposts in abject fear, as Scrooge did. No, instead, I searched my Humor folder and found a wealth of material. Here’s a sample of things that make me laugh, even—or especially—in the process of dying.

Charlie, a new greeter at Walmart, couldn’t seem to get to work on time. Every day he was five-plus minutes late, but he was a good worker, sharp minded, and obviously understood the store’s older-person, friendly policies. One day, the boss called him to the office. “Charles, I like your work ethic. You do a bang-up job when you finally get here, but being late is quite a bother.”

   “Yes sir. I know, and I’m working on it.”

   “Good. That’s what I like to hear. I have to ask, though: I understand you were in the Armed Forces. What did they say if you showed up late?”

   The old man looked at the floor, then smiled. “They usually said, ‘Good morning, General. Can I get your coffee, sir?’”



An elderly cattle man from Texas once told a young female neighbor that if she wanted to live a long life, the secret was to sprinkle a pinch of gunpowder on her oatmeal each morning. She did this religiously and lived to the ripe old age of 103, leaving behind 14 children, three grandchildren, 21 great-grandchildren, five great-great grandchildren, and a 40-foot hole where the crematorium used to be.

Dying is a laughing matter only if your priorities are in order.
   ~Are you tight with our Father/Son/Holy Spirit God? Check.
   ~Does your heart seek to worship Him? Check.
   ~Are your personal relationships tidy? Check.

If you can check these, we’re both ready to meet the God who created humor.

One final laugh:

HOWEVER, I do need to add: The death of someone near and dear is entirely different. Tragic grief, the despair of persecuted people, the ravage of opioids, the crushing disappointments in life—tears are the only fitting response. Perhaps that’s for another blog. Please tell me your personal stories—below, or 

P.S. Couldn’t resist adding this one. *Sassenach = derogatory Scottish word for Englishman.