בס"ד

"Dad, can I get you something?" asked Nathan, my oldest
son.
"Do you want to drink anything?" asked Tami, my middle
daughter.
"Should I call a doctor?" asked Boaz, my youngest son with a
concern expression on his face.
They could really be actors, I thought to myself. And they
could get into the Guinness book for being the most
unsuccessful actors in the country.
"Can't a person cough?" I asked. "I'm not going to die
unfortunately, only because of this cough. Well, not yet."
"What are you talking about? We're not going to let you die
here. We're just so concerned about you!" said Nathan, and
Tami and Boaz looked at Nathan with agreement. I haven't
understood the point yet of trying to pretend, when I
already know they're pretending. It was completely obvious
they were only after one thing: money.
"Give me a break. You know what, just get the hell out of
here and let me rest." I said and they went out, each giving
me a kiss and a hug before leaving and that made me sick,
because they weren't true expressions of emotion. Those hugs
and kisses were just a part of a monopoly game. (To the
people whom do not know the goal of a monopoly game, the
goal is money.)
              I loved my children, but I hated the way they
treated me. If they could, they would have already killed
me. Well, they wouldn't kill me, but they sure want that
money bad. Only one thing is in those little minds: the
inheritance. They're afraid that I'll change it, or the
opposite-they want me to change it, so I will give them more
money. But I already wrote it and I do not intend to change
it. when they heard I had a heart attack, and that I do have
a chance of dying they ran straight to the hospital with
flowers, and started acting like they were my grandma- Which
they had never been close to being. I can hear them talking
about places to investigate in, but I guess they did care
about me because I'm they're dad. But (god bless them)
they're totally obsessed with the money. Oh well, every
person can understand them, and I am not young enough to
care about thing like that. It's just too tiring.
              Today was the day before my birthday. My
condition worsened that day but I didn't care. The reason
that I didn't care was because I saw my three (loving,
caring, wonderful, great, obsessed with money) children
whispering a lot, among themselves and with some doctors
that went into my room. I knew they were planning a surprise
party. It was really obvious. I knew that a surprise party
would give would be another trick to get the money (maybe
they thought that a surprise party would give me another
heart attack which would kill me. Just kidding). But I loved
surprised parties! Well, even thought it wouldn't be a
surprise for me anymore. Never mind, I'll do like I'm
surprised. I'm a better actor then they are, so they'll
probably fall for it.  
I used to make surprise parties for my ex-wife, but the last
thing in the world that I want to talk about is her. Life
has been so much better without her, that any mentioning of
her makes me feel bad.
              "Do you know what day tomorrow is?" I asked
Tami.
"Tomorrow is Wednesday. Why are you asking me that question?
Is there anything else happening tomorrow besides being
Wednesday?" she asked. She could have really fooled me.
I laughed and said "of course not. It's just another
ordinary Wednesday." Tami looked at me again and then went
out of the room. She looked very puzzled and I was very
proud of her, because usually she couldn't keep secrets.
Wait, that was when she was eight years old; I am completely
confused. Probably age has finally caught up with me.
Tomorrow I am going to be sixty nine which is going to be my
last year of being sixty, something which makes me sad, and
happy. Life is a great thing, but after you live so many
years you start to get tired of it. I do intend to live
until I am eighty at least, but I'm starting to get tired of
life right now.
              I woke up at nine thirty and hummed happy
birthday to myself. I ate my breakfast and took a shower; I
couldn't wait 'till I get out of this hospital. Well, except
from the nurses and the doctors, most of whom are really
nice. But the smells. Medicines and the atmosphere, is
disgusting. Any doctors, nurses, or anyone that works in a
hospital that is reading this right now, no offense.
"You seem happy today." The nurse said.
"Today is a special day." I said.
"How come?" she asked.
"You will see." I said and smiled. It will be a real shame
if they won't do me a surprise party. But I know how much
they're after the money, they'll never miss an opportunity
like this.
Nathan, Tami and Boaz, were standing out of the door,
whispering to each other. They looked really excited.
"Dad, you seem happy today." Said Boaz.
"You seem happy too" I said.
"Why are you so happy?" asked Nathan.
"I have my own reasons. What about you?" I asked three of
them.
"No reason" said Tami.
"Ya, we've got our own reasons" said Boaz. Tami and Nathan
looked angry at him.
I knew it! even thought I'm stuck in this damn hospital I
knew it! I haven't lost my brains! Well, not yet...

My new wife says that I should finish this story. She says
that I should turn it into a biography or at least make it
longer because it is too short. But I'm too exhausted to
finish it. every time I try to finish it, tears start
rolling down my eyes, and wet the paper. They are rolling
down right now, but I have to finish this, because otherwise
the pain won't go away. The reason that my kids were so
happy that day, was because they were going to skydive.
There was a lottery on some television show and they had won
the prize. However, something went wrong on the plane and
they crashed on a rock. Last time that I saw them was in the
hospital. I told them that it was ok that I didn't have a
surprise party, but it turned out that they forgot it was my
birthday that day. They never meant to give me a surprise
party. Then Tami lost her heart beat, and after a few
minutes she died. Boaz couldn't breathe properly, and after
fifteen minutes he gave up. The only one to survive was
Nathan. My dear boy. Today he's in a wheelchair, living with
his wife and his adopted kid. So I haven't finished this
story properly with all the details, but I finished it.
There is nothing to learn from this story. I never thought
it was fair that fathers should bury their sons, but that's
life. God help us that these things won't happen. But they
do.  

נעשה במקור בשביל חיבור שהיינו צריכים לעשות לאנגלית, ומכיוון
שקיבלתי תגובות חיוביות ("מיכל, מאיפה העתקת את זה?" נחשב
לתגובה חיובית, לא?) החלטתי לשים את זה. קצת מלודרמטי, למרות
שהשתדלתי שלא יהיה מדי. אני והסופים הטרגיים שלי (המבין יבין)
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