Finally grew up and bought more life insurance. Our agent said we need enough to provide for survivors if something were to happen, but not enough to be motivating. Said he hoped it was the best money we ever wasted. Yeah, us too.
Not only did we have to expose our personal finances—our agent was gentle with us, we also had to share our medical histories with a physician turned health examiner.
Judd came to our house at 7:30 a.m., dressed in scrubs. With a name like Judd, it has to be good, I thought—harkening back to The Breakfast Club and Smucker’s commercials.
He took our vitals, completed our questionnaires, made small talk. Told us he was a physician but couldn’t practice the way he would like and still make a living. Had to see a gazillion patients to make money as a doctor. He liked to spend time with folks.
Had an easy way about him, Judd did. Somewhere between contact information and blood samples, he told us a little story.
Well, first he said he liked our dog. Who doesn’t? She’s the cutest dog in the world. Judd has Tibetan terriers, so small dogs appeal to him the way a good story appeals to us.
Said one night he’d let the dogs out in the backyard for their final bathroom break around 10 p.m. Looked out to see one of them playing with something, flipping it up in the air.
Judd went out to investigate and found the dog had killed a possum. The poor, wretched animal was lying stiff with his eyes closed and tongue hanging out.
“Kind of felt sorry for it,” said Judd. “But it was UG-LY! I didn’t want to mess with it. Figured I’d call the dogs in and take care of it in the morning.”
But no. After he secured the dogs inside the house and started his ascent upstairs, his wife insisted he go back out and dispose of the dead animal.
“It was 10 p.m.!” he said. “I didn’t want to touch it, so I got a big black garbage bag to cover my hands. Then I went out.”
My husband, son and I sat captivated.
“I go to pick it up,” he said, “and all of a sudden it stands to its feet and walks away! I screamed so loud, I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t call the police!”
We howled. “Haven’t you ever heard of playing possum?” I said through laughing tears.
“Yes, but I didn’t know it would do that!” he said. “It looked dead!”
Judd finished his work and left our house. We upped our life insurance for a pretty penny. When the bill comes, I’ll think of Judd’s story. How the extra insurance covers us in case. How we hope to find we didn’t really need it after all.
He has saved me from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling.
And so I walk in the Lord’s presence
as I live here on earth! Psalm 116:8-9 NLT
I cannot with clear conscience mention The Breakfast Club without linking to Don’t You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds. Someone who calls himself “Sheo” set the song to scenes from the movie and put it on YouTube. The video quality of his finished product could be better, but hey, it’s The Breakfast Club for crying out loud.
Here’s a link to the movie trailer too, if you insist.