they had barely said hello
and it was time to say goodbye
If God said, “OK, here’s the deal. You can die when you’re 86, a day after completing your 25th New York City Marathon. You’ll fall down at mile 20, hit your head, refuse medical assistance, and finish the race. 7:57:41. Not bad, considering the headwind. Even God can’t prevent the inevitable race headwind, you know.
“The next day, you’ll go hang around outside the ‘Today’ show, then go for a nap and never wake up.”
I would say, “Wow, God, that sounds like the perfect way to go out. I would like that very much. What’s the catch?”
God would say, “you have to eat squash.”
I would say, “No, thanks, God. What other death choices do I have?”
God would say, “you can die from eating too much squash.”
Why do I suspect heaven is overstocked with squash?
Anyhow, hooray for Joy Johnson. She couldn’t have had a more fitting name. I would say rest in peace, but I suspect Joy wouldn’t be too interested in resting. Probably marking out courses in heaven already.
Someday if I make it to my 86th birthday, maybe I’ll run New York again. Or try squash. Just because.
Always run joyfully …