The Grim Reaper

The Grim Reaper

My image of the Grim Reaper was this really scary guy with a hood covering his face and a scythe clutched in his boney hands; a dark, forbidding creature with glowing eyes and gnashing teeth that drug us off to h-e-double hockey sticks.
         
Well, I was wrong. He is fairly normal looking, least he looks like most of the rest of us. He dresses a little better, wears diamond rings and lives in a very nice house. There isn’t just one either. I have found that there are many of them, sometimes, one in every town, waiting.
         
You probably wouldn’t recognize him if it weren’t for the fact that he is always there when someone dies, reaping in the profits from another grieving family. He passively guilts them into spending more than they can afford to give their loved one the proper send off.

And it wouldn’t be fair to give the poor soul a decent burial without sticking it to the family. Then he would have to do the same for all the other poor people. Heaven forbid a little charity should escape his boney clutches. I’ve seen more charity at the casinos on the reservation ... well, maybe.

I have always had the feeling that the Grim Reaper looks at us and thinks, “They will be coming to see me sometime, and there isn’t any way around it. I’ll get them someday.” And he is right; he will get us someday. He will be patronizing to our loved ones in their time of sorrow and he will bill them with ridiculously high interest when they are late with the payment. And he will stop at nothing to reap in the profits.

I have decided I am not going to die. Let’s see the Grim Reaper make a buck off of me. Oh, I know, I will have to die sometime, but God willing, I won’t go quietly and I’ll take the Grim Reaper with me, not that I’m looking forward to spending eternity with the devil.