THE LONG TABLE

They sat at the long formal table, grand in scale, flowered and articulately arranged. He would have...no, he expressly, wanted it to be this way. So it was. Everyone in fine black attire, smiling, toasting, and mostly toasted too, just as he would have it...ties loosened, heels kicked off beneath, jesting, teasing, risqué banter, he would be soaking it in. 

Besides, it was a shock to no one, a blessing for most...his long slow descent, painful as it was, was also filled with laughter and reminiscence. It was indeed clichéd - ‘the best, and worse’ ... So much to regret, but far more, to be grateful...

Eventually the laughter turned to chronic cough, spasms, choking, phlegm and bloody sputum. Wracked between laughter and pain, until only pain remained. With no stories to share, he caved. 

  

So they arrived, relieved he was released, no one grieved, rejoicing instead, on this  gleeful night, at his final invite, he was gloriously free.