Friday, November 18, 2011

My Obituary

Melissa Dawn Dinsio-Miller died today from the funk that had been in her lungs since May, and the thought of getting a seven year-old ready for school simply overwhelmed her.

Melissa was born on August 23, 1968 in Youngstown, Ohio, to Amil and Linda Mulligan-Dinsio.  She was their favorite child, which was really great during the younger years of Melissa's life because her parents never made her do anything.  Unfortunately, though, being the favorite child came back to bite Melissa in the arse because she ended up taking care of her mother with Alzheimer's.  Of course, Melissa died only ten days after putting her mother in a nursing home.  That is the kind of luck she always had.

Surviving Melissa is her husband, Danny Dinsio-Miller, whom Melissa repeatedly married.  She just couldn't quit.  It was the weirdest thing.

Also surviving Melissa are her two daughters, Delaney and Emerson.  Delaney is a freshman in college and is quite wrapped up in her own life there.  She has always been a wonderful daughter, and will attend her mother's funeral if a sorority event does not conflict with it.  But Melissa would understand, because Delaney gets fined if she misses sorority events, and that's just a ridiculous rule.

Emerson is devastated at the loss of her mother, but she will get over it.  Soon, she will be calling another woman "Mom" and Melissa will become a vague memory.  Melissa will be okay with that, too, because that's just the way she rolled.  Melissa was really kind of cool that way.

Melissa is also survived by her sisters, Deborah and Amie.  They were surprised at Melissa's death because everyone just assumed Debbie would die first.  She was the oldest and the sickest, so it really should have been her.

Miraculously, Melissa earned a B.S.Ed. and a J.D.  She rarely attended the classes or bought the books for them.  The only way she got through law school is by becoming close friends with the three smartest people in the class.  Later in her life, Melissa became a Licensed Nursing Home Administrator, which was her true calling in life.  Too bad she didn't work at it very long, but, hey, that's just the way the mop flops (as her mother was fond of saying).

Overall, Melissa's life was kind of boring. She hated to travel and she had no bucket list.  None.  Pathetic, really.

Melissa's casket will be closed because Amie will look at her face and determine that Melissa should've had Juvederm and Botox injections, and no one should really see her face in its present condition.

Melissa's mother will not be attending the funeral because it will be too annoying for everyone to say every thirty seconds, "Melissa.  Your daughter.  She's the one in the box."  Her father will not attend the funeral either because he is in prison in New York, and the authorities will not transport inmates across state lines for funerals.  Even for those of their favorite children. 

Despite how boring Melissa's life was, she enjoyed it.  She loved her family and friends, and she saw the humor in everything.  She was also addicted to Facebook, and someone really should have staged an intervention for that problem.

Melissa is not upset about her death at all.  She was a Mormon, and had absolutely no doubt about what is on the other side of the veil.  Currently, she is enjoying a beautiful reunion with family and friends who passed before her.

Interment will be in Jacksonville City Cemetery in Jacksonville, Alabama, even though she hates her cemetery plot.  It is right up against the fence of a stranger's backyard.  But that's what you get when you send your glass-eyed cousin, Grady, to find you a cemetery plot.  Lesson learned.

Melissa's death is senseless, really.  The whole thing could have been avoided if today were Saturday and she didn't have to get a seven year-old ready for school.


  1. Just let Emerson stay home already....

  2. What a cool post! I've threatened to write my own obituary for several years now. After all, who knows us better than we do?

    I do have a list of favorite 60s & 70s songs that I want played at my visitation and funeral...let's rock!

  3. I LOVE this. We should all write our obituaries this week! But you forgot to tell us what your last words were.

  4. This literally has me LOLing...

  5. I am laughing so hard that I made pee pee in my pants! What a hoot you are...I am blessed to have had such a wonderful cousin for too short of time......I will miss Missy.....Just be-cuzz I loved her....

  6. I'm really sorry you are gone. I will miss your sparkling wit and charm. Oh wait, you wrote it yourself. I'm sure glad you aren't gone after all. You are hysterical. I would certainly miss laughing with the wonderful Glassy-Eyed.

  7. Hahahaha. I didn't know you administrated nursing homes. My father survived that profession for many years. He has said the average burnout in the job is 18 months. Thanks for the laugh. I feel your pain and frequently almost die at the thought of fighting the bedtime battle alone again on a Tuesday night.

  8. you and your blog are stunning!
    Do you think we can follow each others blog? :X

  9. Missy! This is GREAT!
    Please write my obituary when I die; which should be soon the way I'm going.
    Love you. You are truly gifted.

  10. O this absolutely beautiful cousin of mine i love her dearly.....