Everyone in the room laughed. It was a good line. Even though Meir himself was on his deathbed
“Listen to this one,” Meir said. “Three old fellows are talking about what they want the rabbi to say at their funeral.
Sam says, I want the rabbi to talk about how much charity I gave. Joe says, I want the rabbi to talk about what a devoted husband and father I was. But Irv says—” Meir paused, then delivered the punchline— “all I want is for the rabbi to say, ‘Look! He’s moving!’”
Everyone in the room laughed. It was a good line. Even though Meir himself was on his deathbed.
Meir was in his mid-fifties and was dying from cancer. I had known Meir casually in the years before he became sick, but this was my first meeting with him in the context of hospice. He was aware of what was happening, in tune with his family’s emotional needs and, to all appearances, more or less his regular self emotionally. A few days after he told me this joke, he started deteriorating; ten days later, he passed away. But on this day, with great pleasure, he was telling jokes about funerals. And he had everyone sitting around his bedside — his wife, his children, the nurse, the social worker, and me — cracking up.
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