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Jaja (which is Polish for "Grandpa") died in Michigan this past Thursday
after a filling Thanksgiving Day Meal of Ensure pumped through his
feeding tube.
I drove up to Michigan from Pennsylvania to attend the funeral and to
take the opportunity to be GRILLED and BADGERED to death by my
Rosary-toting, Dominican Monk of a father.
I'm at the funeral, and Jaja is laying there in the casket looking all
plastic and unreal, and I remember that I've got 100 "Get Out Of Hell
Free" cards in my purse. Grandpa was buried with a "Get Out of Hell Free"
card in his lapel pocket. If there is a hell (which I believe there is
not), he is well prepared.
Rest his soul, hope he makes it to the other side and has use for his
card. If not, at least I did my part.
Denise, Pennsylvania
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