My new experience in regards to death.

On July 22, 2009, my father died. He had been taking care of my step-mother who had just had a quadruple bypass surgery. I had spoken to him just the day before. He was chipper and sounding well. He told me that he was given his "honey do" list and was about to head home for the night.

The next day, after a rest, he was ready to go do his errands. No one knows exactly what happened, but when he failed to show at the hospital that evening, my brother went to look for him. He was found beside the car on the ground. He had vomited in a plastic bag.

I am told that the medical examiner thinks he had a heart-attack. Just to be sure there was nothing unexpected, they are running a toxicology report.

My family is poor. When I talked to my brother and step-mother about my father's arrangements, I was saddened. My parents were not insured. There will be no funeral, no service, no burial. They cannot even afford to have him cremated. In order to handle the cost of the cremation, my step-mother decided to donate my father's body to science. They will cremate him for free when they are done with him.

So this is how my father's story ends. No get togethers, no ceremony, no fanfare, just done.

Of course this makes you reflect on your own life. How will you leave your mark on the world? Will it be through good deeds? Evil doings? Will you be famous? Rich? What about kind, or decent? How will others remember you? Will they have good memories or bad ones?

I know that my mark on the world is not a big one, but I want it to be a good, well-placed mark. Kind of like Cindy Crawford's beauty mark. Anywhere else on her face, it would be considered a blemish. But right where it is, it is small and okay.

That's me. Some people don't like me, but none the less, I am small, well-placed, and often a topic of conversation.

How about you?