Here’s what’s going on today over at the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie:
This week consider the notion of Eulogy as a task to write about.
It could be your own, a friend, a parent, a child or you may like to write a story in which a eulogy features.
Susan lived a long, long life. Too long for her taste, judging from this eulogy she left for someone, anyone, to find. I’ve decided to paraphrase rather than read the entire tome. It’s not like we have all day.
Susan made a lot of mistakes over the years, oftentimes the same ones more than once. They say someone who repeats the same action over and over, but expects a different outcome is crazy. Susan wasn’t crazy. Rather, she was merely forgetful. And stubborn.
Sometimes, it was just that she wanted a thing too much.
That said, she had many regrets. One the biggest was that she never had children. This was due, in part, to fear — the fear of single-parenting. Sadly, she never met anyone she trusted enough with whom to have children. Another reason was pure selfishness.
Another regret was the countless people she’d hurt along the way. She felt a tremendous amount of guilt for causing pain for so many, and wished she’d done things differently. Susan acknowledged that she thought with her heart rather than her head, and that no good had ever come of it.
Susan Marie Shuman was the author of four short story collections: Gutter Ball, Eddie’s Underwear, Humannequin, and Bad Meringue, as well as a memoir, Belles Lettres to My Damn Self. It was the memoir that put her infamously on the map. She’d always known it would because it had taken years to write and every word ripped her guts out. Susan felt it important to publish the memoir, though, as a warning to others not to live their lives as she had lived hers. It was the least she could do.
Susan spent her life in relentless pursuit of fun and adventure. Suffice it to say that she had plenty of both.
She’d made a list of her adventures and misadventures, but there aren’t enough hours in this day (or any other day) for me to go into detaail. Besides, none of us here today knew her personally.
Susan stated that she counted on seeing all of her friends and family members on the other side. This hope is what got her through her life. She goes on to write that if in fact, seeing her predeceased loved ones was not an option, she was going to be really, really pissed.
Finally, Susan left her vast estate to various animal rights organizations and shelters. If you don’t like it, she wrote, you can kiss her wrinkled-up, dead ass.
And that about wraps it up.