Thad E. Hadet spent a lot of time at the Will B. Still Funeral Home in town. He didn’t work there. And those who did were of no relation to him, not even a friend outside of being friendly. Nor was he terminally ill.
So why did Thad show up at the funeral home every single day?
He was making funeral arrangements—his own.
It wasn’t all of the time, but on several occasions, Thad had shown up wearing the suit he was to be buried in. Yes, at age forty-two, he had it all picked out. Every detail of the funeral needed to be perfect. For Thad, there was no better way of passing the time by planning for the big day—while he waited.
But dry runs of lying in the back of the hearse, on the embalming table, and spending the night in his latest choice of casket went beyond planning.
This was a longing.
Was Thad taking this too far?
The dead thought so.