These are my two requests for you (and remember, you CANNOT say no): Take me somewhere nice and spread my ashes. Let me explain. I’m afraid your mother will use my presence in her living room as an excuse not to move on. She deserves to move on. Deserves to fall in love, to laugh, to enjoy the remainder of her days. Which brings me to my next point: I would really rather not be there, on the mantel, when she and her new partner make out for the first time. Yes, I want her to move on. No, I don’t want it happening in front of my face. Or rather, dust. Spread my ashes somewhere beautiful and
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