Respectful Missive

Dear Life, the Universe, and Everything,

As per my last email, I requested a calm, quiet set of twilight years.

After the first 2/3 of my life, I felt I was owed that. Personal issues, a professional life that can be best described as ‘spirited’, and, let’s face it, rather horrific consequences for normal life choices have been the sweat equity that earned me a small measure of peace as I trudge toward the grave.

Instead, you continue to throw everything, up to and including the kitchen sink, at me. I will not go over already well-trodden ground, but half a century of chaos, heartache, and what some would call deliberate malice on your part have convinced me that a well-deserved respite from all that has been truly earned.

Being a patient soul, I am reaching out, yet again, to request that you fulfill the commitment you made when I was told “the suck won’t last forever”. I not only embraced the suck, I have nurtured it, put it through good schools, and provided for its upkeep and entertainment for decades.

It is time for the suck to leave the nest and make a life for itself. I, it’s unwilling host, am spent and withered.

Yes, life is better now that it has been in the past. Yes, I have some leisure time, my occupation has been rearranged so that I no longer fear the ringing of alarms and telephones, and my family is both healthy and well provided for.

However, taking into account the latest headlines, the reports from both spouse and spawn, and the disapproving look I get from multiple medical professionals, it is clear that there is still much work to be done.

Please take this gentle reminder as a nudge toward doing the right thing. Failure to do so will leave me no option except to retain counsel and pursue satisfaction through the courts. Nobody wants that, so please make the right choice.

Sincerely,

Tom.

P.S. - Please say hello for me to the Void. I haven’t screamed into it in quite some time, and I don’t want it to feel neglected.