While waiting for Richie to be ready to go to the gym, I idly flicked through today's obits in the LA Times. This struck me as not only admirable, but a real paean of joy to life.
"Murphy*, Edward Joseph 1922 - 2011 A dedicated husband, loving father and cherished grandfather and great grandfather joined the party upstairs at the age of 88. He was loved by all who knew him and treasured by his family who will miss him beyond measure."
It continues: "Ed believed in living life to its fullest and enjoyed traveling with his wife and family, 49ers games, his Cadillacs, sipping martinis, listening to Frank Sinatra, talking politics and as a proud Irishman strictly observing the evening's cocktail hour."
I'd be proud to be that well thought of at my death and overjoyed to think, "It's a party up there!"
* No relation other than in the sense of the name.
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