More About My Dad

While I'm on vacation this week, reading, gardening and whatnot I thought I would take the time to tell some stories that I might otherwise not get a chance to share. This one again, is about my father who is in his seventies.

We're located in New York, Niagara Falls to be exact and up here there's a restaurant and child's theme park called the "Whistle Pig", some of you may remember it from your travels in this area. They have great food, terrific ice cream and rides for small children. I remember being take here as a child and I've brought my own children, sadly it's for sale, a sign of the time I guess. The economy isn't what it used to be around here.

Kitty corner from this marvelous place is a gas station and now over the years a Tim Horton's has joined that corner. As we were leaving the restaurant after dinner my father looked over toward the gas station and Tim Horton's (a drive-thru coffee place) and said, "I'm going to be buried from there." I was sure I hadn't heard him correctly, I knew he didn't mean the gas station but I was thinking maybe Tim Horton's? In a coffee can perhaps? Surely times aren't that tough around here?

So I asked him what he meant, thinking that maybe dementia was staring to set in, he is afterall nearing eighty. Apparently behind the Tim Horton's coffee spot is a funeral parlor, but you really can't see it from the street, it is well hidden. Relieved we went on to talk about some of the other details of his burial...