“Isaac…son…we don’t have to do this. My pension…I still have that to offer, yes? ”
His son sighed, “Papa, your pension barely covers Miriam’s piano lessons. Meanwhile, there’s medicines and utilities and food.”
“I…I don’t get so hungry anymore. I can eat less.” His tone was pleading.
“Papa, enough! We will go to your Celebration of Life. You will smile and enjoy your cake. Then you must go. It won’t be painful. The State promises you a serene passing. Now, hush and let me drive.”
A tear trickled down the old man’s face, but he did as he was told.
This story was written for BlogFlash2012 Day 11: Celebration