The Scalia way.

If one has to die. One might as well go the way of Antonin Scalia. The Supreme Court justice. Found dead. In bed. On Saturday morning. Age 79  Several months younger than me. Anyway, Scalia didn’t have to suffer. Or lament over his pending death. He thought of himself as healthy.  And then. Boom. Suddenly the bottom drops out. He’s gone. Relatively quick and easy.  Several days earlier. My step son Jack died. Rather agonizing, lingering death. From lung cancer. That had spread to the rest of his body. He looked awful. Like he had just come out of Auschwitz. My wife Jeanne. Died a lingering, awful death. From Alzheimer’s. Don’t know for sure. Which way is the best to go. But I suspect it’s the Scalia way. --Jim Broede