THINGS I LOOKI FORWARD TO WHEN I DIE

 

      I realize that many will not share my enthusiasm for what may lie beyond this life, and before I go further, let me just say--I love living! I love my life. I am endlessly grateful for the many blessings I have had showered on me: a wonderful husband, two great adult "kids", a career that kept me interested and working for decades, a circle of family and friends, a beautiful house overlooking the valley, nature, and a strong faith community. But here's the thing: 

 

--I loathe trying to cut my toenails. I know that the Vermont Country Store sells special scissors with long handles for us old folks. But do they work? I am deeply suspicious. So--once I have fled to the great beyond, I will no longer have to try--with swearing, sweat, and lost eyeglasses--to cut those damn nails. Yippee!

 

--I will no longer have to struggle with the everlasting question: What are we going to eat tonight? What do I have in the fridge and the pantry which would make something delicious for the two of us? And why would I rather lounge on the couch, reading the latest Homefront Sleuth Mystery instead of cooking, although I am a passionate cook?

--I hope to never feel guilt at not walking our darling dog. Given the brutality of this New England winter up on our 1400' hill with a terrifyingly steep drive, our poor pooch has had way fewer walks up the road. 

It just is too hard wobbling down our drive with a pole in one hand, avoiding ice on the road, and holding onto the lead with my left hand. Sorry, dear doggy! Although some Catholic writers, like Jack Winz, have promised that our pets will be there in heaven. I hope!

--No more will I glance at my pooching-out 80 year-old tummy and think, Gad! I really must exercise more, eat less, do crunches, etc. etc. etc. Having grown up in the 1950s-1960s, 

I was shaped by how women were meant to look; slim with out-thrust boobs, styled hair, makeup, horrifying shoes, and more. I once had a man come to our door and ask, "Is the boss-man at home?" I expect God would never allow that to happen in the afterlife.

--I will no longer have to shower my transformed body! As someone with an autoimmune condition from chemo, showering is one of my least favorite activities. Just getting undressed is something I hate. And we will draw a veil over soaping up legs, feet, arms, and torso, not to mention washing my hair with a special hair-thinning concoction. Not to mention getting dry and trying not to fall heavily on the tiled bathroom floor, drying my hair, putting on makeup, and getting dressed again. Sheesh! Why don't we have spray-on clothes already? Get busy, NASA scientists!

--Shopping for groceries will go by the board, although I admit to mainly doing online shopping through Instacart because--remember that autoimmune disease?--shopping physically is pretty hard for this aging broad. I assume that even with a transformed body, I will no longer need to eat. Hurray! Although I will miss pasta dishes and chocolate desserts.

 

--Hopefully I will no longer need to worry about hurting peoples' feelings with some inane remark, something said on the spur of the moment without thinking it through, or perhaps words shot out in anger. I hate feeling guilty and that I have let people down.

 

--Money will not be an issue any more, thank God! Although we are some of the privileged people in the world who basically do not need to worry about money, even while we try to be careful with spending.  I am guessing that the only currency worth having in the afterlife will be love and faith. I think I can manage that.

 

   So what are the things you will not miss in the afterlife, assuming you believe in one? Taxes, body image, clothing, cooking, driving, and more? Do weigh in on the comments please.