The Best of Me

by David Sedaris

“It’s like an airline terminal,” he observed. “Yes,” I said. “Terminal Illness.”

I’ve always figured there was a reason my insides were on the inside: so I wouldn’t have to look at them.

I have been saying this for years!

My father looked up at the ceiling, and then at us. “Am I…real to you kids?”

I wonder what it would be like to be so old. But please, given a choice, I choose not to be.

Then he turned to me. “David,” he said, as if he’d just realized who I was. “You’ve accomplished so many fantastic things in your life. You’re, well…I want to tell you…you…you won.”