Epitaph. ( i haven't killed myself so don't worry)

Have it never be said any other way so that when I die, my epitaph will say:

“Jenny was a very simple person, who neither judged nor was judged in a way it which she should not approve. She was a good person with very low expectations and she will be sadly missed and loved.”

She died broken hearted and swiftly took her life as many may say as “lovers often do.” She leaves behind her dearly devoted kitten, Mimosa and her newly adopted pooches Lucy, Meko, and her child of nine-months.

To her mother she has left her dear puppies and kitten, to her brothers, she has bequeathed to them her life savings. (This in most terms would be deemed respectable but neither too much nor too little of a sum.) To her father she has given her book collection, filled with the most beautiful of poets and authors ranging from Marquez and Neruda to Austen.

But to her sister, this would be the most difficult of all, for you see that Jenny and her sister shared a special bond, none could understand. Being of two bodies and minds but acting as one. Though never alike in attractiveness or in identical appearances, the sisters found their companies to be all each other needed as far as companions were concerned. Jenny’s sister of course was married to a man whom Jenny dearly loved, and let it not be said that he wasn’t a patient man who seemed to have married two women, it seems, instead of one. To both of them she would bestow her dear little child.

Now normally, this child would have been given to her mother for safe keeping but instead was given to her dear sister and brother-in-law. This was an obvious decision (and one to be proud of) because if indeed Jenny and her sister were very much alike, the child would be brought up knowing what kind of woman his mother was.

Jenny’s sister was a kind-hearted person with humor as well as her own but also held a motherly instinct that only Jenny had known, upon motherhood.

Jenny hadn’t decided upon a name for her dear little child. And this was to be the first task at hand for the newly parented sister and brother-in-law.

The child had dark curly hair, and his skin was the skin of a Mediterranean, his eyes were as dark as his father’s but held a hint of green to them, when the sun hit them correctly. He looked more like her sister’s child than her own and because he looked more like her, this made her happy.

They granted him a name that was strong and meaningful.

At last Jenny was content.


She was buried on a hill under a bed of sunflowers.

Though a very simple person with a small heart, broken by men who in most regards showed her very little love, remember that Jenny had very low expectations, but to them they were expectations just the same.