Ashes to Ashes

Last night, my brother told Mama to be careful inside the comfort room because it was wet and slippery.

I told my brother, “What are you so afraid of?  She has a funeral plan.”

Our mother who’s used to my antics laughed her heart out.

My brother replied, “Her plan does not cover the plot that will maintain her remains.”

I retorted, “We’ll just have to cremate her if we can’t find one.  And, I’m sure you’ll deal with the ashes according to your Catholic customs.  If you let me keep her ashes, I might flush them down the pozo negro (cesspit).”

Remember, our mother was laughing as she listened to us.

Through the laughter, I imagined Mama thinking and singling me out, “You’re disinherited.  Don’t even bother attending the reading (of the last will and testament).”