My ashes tossed up for the winds to scatter

on a hillside of my childhood in the great sweeping plains

where hillsides are as uncommon as poets

my divested dispersal and separated sepulchers

wholly dependable on any way the wind blows

an exuberant gust could land me in Kansas or Oz

There is no one known to actually do it

no one left who loved me enough to stick around

to carry out my lifetime much less final wishes

so some dreary droning malsuited banker lawyer undertaker

will dutifully stand stumble mumble meaningless words

then let 'er go flying in whatever breeze at hand

Stale sandwiches and store bought cookies to follow

provided by the cremation vendor as part of the package

coffee too soda available from the machine out back

sorry no booze they don't have much of a budget

you might be alone in their rancid reception room

so bring your own deft and titillating conversation

I walked to my brother's house, champagne in hand, squinting at a message on my phone: "You're actually coming?"

I knocked.

Stan opened the door, surprise fading into a welcome. He pulled me into the throng of a pool party, a raucous blend of splashes and shouts.

My office attire felt misplaced. I ditched the tie, rolled up my sleeves, and blended in.

Selina was there, laughter mingling with friends'. She waved. I was about to wave back when beer drenched my shirt, courtesy of a careless bump.

"Danny!" the culprit yelled. "Sorry, man! You're actually here!" He vanished before I could reply.

Selina's laughter caught my ear again. I managed a smile.

Stan clapped my back. "Thought you'd be chained to your desk. Good to see you."

Before I could answer, a friend cut in. "Stan, time for your speech. Before everyone get's too drunk."

Stan nodded, leaving me with an unanswered question.

I found Selina in the house, splashing water on her face. "Danny! You made it!"

Her words echoed the sentiment I'd heard all day.

"I saw your photo in Stan's posts. Been back long?"

She blinked. "A year, Danny. And you? Buried in work?"

"I code. Fix things. There's this bug..." I trailed off at her laughter.

"Lost me," she said.

"High school feels like yesterday," I mused.

She smiled. "Thought you'd make a move back then."

I stumbled over words, but we were interrupted.

"Selina, it's time," her friend said.

"For what?" I asked.

The crowd hushed as Stan took the mic, Selina by his side. "We've been together a while, but now it's time take the next step. I proposed.." he started.

I froze.

"...and she said yes," he finished.

The crowd erupted. I clapped, heart sinking.

I congratulated them, the words heavy.

Exiting the chaos, I wandered, phone in hand, scrolling through memories I wasn't part of.

"God, where have I been?"

Back in 1999, my sister-in-law was all about the coming crash that was coming with the changeover of computers from the 1900s to the 2000s. When computers were first developed, digital storage was expensive, so the dating scheme had just 2 digits, e.g., 59 instead of 1959. In this way 2 digits of hard disk space were saved every time a date was recorded or applied to each and every file being laid down on hard drives.

Unfortunately, when 2000 were to come, every computer in the world would think it was 1900 instead. You can only imagine the confusion for data storage, the grid, and...well...everything.

Many predicted a total meltdown of civilization. Many, including my sister-in-law, prepared Y2K rooms stocked with family needs, canned food, bottled water, etc. She was ready to survive for weeks when the rest of us would be begging to be let in, come the 2-digit limit dooming us all.

New Orleans is a place where they party for anything. There's Mardi Gras (partying for Lent), Jazz Fest, and even hurricane parties. So, it was only natural that we'd have a Y2K party when the world collapsed into ruins.

We had the TV on which covered Times Square and. although we were an hour behind, it was the NYC ball that would first ring in the New Year. We watched and drank, but I kept watching my in-law, who grew increasingly nervous as midnight on TV approached. At five minutes to, I noticed she had her car keys in hand.

"Do you think cars are gonna work?" I asked. She swallowed hard. The countdown began.

10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1... and —

The whole house went suddently dark. The TV snapped off. The music stopped abruptly. And my sister-in-law screamed.

What she didn't know is that I had shown my son how to crank off the entire house at the circuit breaker box in the laundry room.

Now, I'll warrant that, although this was funny, it wasn't that great a joke. And I'll warrant that it wasn't particularly clever, either. What I will say is that herein was an opportunity to pull off a joke on someone that only comes about once in a thousand years. You can only pull this off one time.

And what I'm particularly proud about is that I stepped up. It was a narrow window of cosmic opportunity, and I engaged! I delivered. For the ages. For the millennium.

And then we all starved to death when the logistics grid went dead and no food was able to make it beyond the farms and those selfish farmer sons-of-bitches.

I had not thought this through, not one bit. I had invited too many people, made too big a spectacle. I mean that's what you do when you're having a baby though right? Throw a big party and plan a big surprise to find out the gender... in front of almost everyone you know? No no, I did the right thing, I won't regret this in ten years when my baby is bigger and asking about their birth and everything before and after.

"Alrighty guys, lets get mom and dad out here and find out our little surprise!" My sister sounds so much louder than the last time we talked only three minutes ago. I look over to my partner and our eyes hold the same nervousness, but his blue mossy orbs remind me that although this is in front of everyone, it is only for us.

By the time we get outside and everyone has their phones ready, my anxiety peaks again. I don't know if gender disappointment is a real thing or just a myth, but I am scared I will feel it. I don't even care what gender I am having, but subconsciously maybe I am. My sister has a little boy and I adore him, maybe I am hoping for a boy. But I see how most women wish for a little girl as their first and how magical it can be, I could be wishing for a girl instead.

"Okay, so when the parents are ready they will open the umbrella, reveal the gender, and you guys better make sure there's plenty of videos!" Okay, it's time. I look to my partner, he mouths to three, and together we open the umbrella. And it didn't matter to me what color was flowing down in little wisps, this baby was our love made anew. They were going to be their own person, and I was going to love them unconditionally; I already did anyway, that won't be changing anytime soon.