I can promise you one thing about my 7-headed debt monster when he expels his last breath on this planet. I will not grieve his loss. Although nothing in this world is certain, it appears my debt monster is now on his death bed and he will no longer be with us as of March 17. Defeating him is no easy task. I'm going to send him off in style with an Irish wake similar to what my dad did in his pub named Mulligan's. I can see my dad in Heaven hoisting a green beer alongside his siblings including new arrival, John, his youngest brother. Most saints get one day out of the year to be remembered. Dad turned St. Patrick's Day into a month long celebration with a dixieland band and a piano man. He placed empty bottles in a casket for the wake.
Pardon me for being a bit sentimental today. There is a special place in my heart for the hospice folks. There was one lady in particular who rode a Harley. She took great care of my dad in the final stages of his life. End of life is a tough subject to write about. My last words to my dad before he passed were, "It's time to go, dad, your work here is done. Vaya con Dios." I'm saying the same thing to my debt monster except for the vaya con Dios part. Monsters don't want to reside in Heaven. They would rather reign in Hell. Come back on March 17 and join the wake. It's time to put the final nail in the coffin. Have a great day.
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