In Lieu of Flowers, Please Send Amazon Gift Cards


When I’m gone, I want you to remember me as I always was. A force of nature with a rare, endearing personality. I was nice, smart, and a third adjective to describe someone that’s kind but not overkill.

I grew up in a town you’ve never heard of, a few hours from a city you actually have heard of but aren’t familiar with. My home town was small but not cramped. I had a job and was good at it, but not in the way where you need to ask follow-up questions. On weekends, I enjoyed my favorite hobbies: pizza, vacation, and music.

I ask that, in lieu of flowers, you please celebrate my life in the way you always have—by sending Amazon gift cards.

Keep in mind the rare and special circumstance in which we—creatures made of stardust floating around with S’well containers of potable drinking water—crossed paths. Please remember what we have shared: delicious meals; fun events; the Amazon Prime password NameOfDeadPet1988, or maybe NameofDeadPet123 (try that one if the first didn’t work).

Hold me in your memory. Remember me as I lived—gleefully scratching off redemption codes. Adding and then removing unisex rubber clogs from my cart. Annually purchasing counterfeit iPhone chargers that soon became fire hazards.

My house was always full of laughter and the tinny, humanoid lilt of Alexa, answering everyday questions like “How tall is Timothée Chalamet?” You could always find me with my nose in a Kindle, proof of my enduring love of touch screens.

I was the life of the party. You knew that my favorite song was the doorbell chime ringing out, announcing a new stack of blue-and-black-taped, side-smirking cardboard boxes, delivered to me promptly by a man who peed in a Pepsi bottle to meet the day’s quota.

I had a zest for life. I had a zest for goosenecked electric kettles. I was never without my sixty-four-pack of AAA batteries, because you can never have enough, you know. You took one; I had too many. I was generous to a fault.

You can picture me even now, wrapped in a jewel-toned sherpa-fleece weighted blanket. A near-duplicate of one made by someone paid a living wage. Half the price, too. Score.

I would do anything for anyone. I would do anything for a self-cooling wine cup, the one that the actress called life-changing. The one that the single mother packaged during a lethal tornado. It cost more than I wanted to spend, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it!

I fought right to the end for items to recommend breathlessly to you.

I lived my life to the fullest. I lived my life nodding along as you showed me around your place, sighing, “Ooh, what’s this?” I was ready to write down the brand. I was ready to bust unions. I was ready to cheer on the dick-rocket sharting out pollutants in the upper atmosphere.

I wouldn’t want to see you crying. God needed another angel. God needed a deal. God forgave me for displacing low-income residents on my path to a combination dog-camera treat-tosser.

Please trust me when I say that flowers aren’t necessary. An Amazon gift card is good—great, even. Honor my life like it was my birthday, honor my life like it was [insert federal holiday]. I would have wanted it that way.

You’ll know just the right custom memo. You’ll know just the right amount. After all, you knew me best. You and the algorithm, you really knew me.



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