Today 5:46pm

Alexander, we need to talk.

Dad?

Yes, it’s your father. Who else would it be?

But… you’re… dead.

Yes, I understand that. But there’s something very important we need to talk about.

Yes, dad. What do you want to talk about?

There’s a mistake on my death certificate and I need you to change it.

…That’s it? A mistake on your death certificate?

It’s a very important document, Alexander.

Dad, you’re literally texting me from beyond the grave and this is what you want to talk about?

What else would I want to talk about?

ANYTHING? You love me? You’re proud of me? You have a secret Swiss Bank account you want to give me the access code do… I don’t know, dad, anything but a mistake on your death certificate! Like, seriously, you came back for this?

No, nevermind, this makes perfect sense. This is very you.

Alexander, I can see how this might make you upset.

Upset? No, I’m just breaking the laws of the universe by texting my dead father. Why would that make me upset?

Look, I don’t know how much time I have here. Can I explain the issue?

How much time you have? Is heaven like prison? Do you get timed earth calls?

No… Alexander, this is important.

Yeah, of course it is. You’re talking to me from beyond the veil. What is it, dad?

On my death certificate, the “Usual Occupation” lists me as “Retired” instead of “Teacher.”

Yeah, dad, you were retired for ten years before you died. Do you not remember that part?

No, son, the instructions clearly state that “Usual Occupation” the job the person held for the greatest number of working years – it explicitly says not to use “retired.”

Dad, I love you. I miss you so much. But how does this matter?

Alexander, I was a teacher for 40 years! That was the defining aspect of my life! Of course it’s important!

What am I? Chopped liver?

Stop it, Alexander – you know you and your sister are precious to me. But this is important, too. And this is the last document of my life – I want it to be an accurate record of who I was.

And you were retired, dad.

Alexander, it specifically says you can’t put that.

Dad, I just buried you. I closed your accounts. I dealt with the house. I filled out seventeen forms. I am not reopening this whole process because one box says “Retired.”

It was a very beautiful service, too. Thank you. But could you just take care of this last thing?

I love you, Dad. And I miss you terribly. Julie misses you. We wish you were here still.

I love you, Alex.

Agent: You have reached the California Department of Public Health, Vital Records department. I am an automated agent. How may I help you?

User: Hi, I need to correct a death certificate.

Agent: You need to correct a death certificate. Is this right?

User: Yes. That is right.

Agent: What is your relationship to the deceased?

User: It’s me. I’m the deceased.

Agent: Invalid response. Please provide your relationship to the deceased.

User: I am the deceased.

Agent: Invalid response. Please provide your relationship to the deceased.

User: That’s me. I’m dead. I’m the one on the death certificate.

Agent: … Please wait while I attempt to connect you with a live agent…

User: That’s ironic…

…

Agent: Thank you for contacting the California Department of Public Health, Vital Records. I’m Elaine, may I get your name?

User: Hi Elaine. I’m Charlie. Charlie Andrews.

Agent: Okay, thank you Mr. Andrews. How may I help you today?

User: I need to fix an error on a death certificate.

Agent: Alright. Just letting you know up front that we may need supporting documents, but first, what is the name of the deceased?

User: Charlie Andrews. Well, Charles Lemont Andrews.

Agent: Thank you, Mr. Andrews. And what is your relationship with the deceased?

User: It’s me. I’m Charles Lemont Andrews.

Agent: So, the deceased is your father? You’re Charles Lemont Andrews Junior?

User: No, there’s no junior or senior – that’s me. I’m the deceased.

Agent: Sir, maybe I’m not being clear…

User: I’m dead, Elaine. I need to get my death certificate fixed.

Agent:

User: Hello?

Agent: I’m sorry, sir, let me get you over to one of my supervisors…

…

Agent: Hi, Charlie, this is Marisol. I’m a supervisor here. Elaine provided me with your details. You’re claiming to be the decedent?

User: Hi Marisol. Yes, that’s correct. I’m the dead guy on the form.

Agent: Well, Charlie, we don’t get a lot of requests from the other side. You indicated you needed something changed on a… on your death certificate. Is that right?

User: Yes, that’s correct.

Agent: What exactly did you need changed?

User: The “Usual Occupation” field is incorrect. It says “retired,” but it should read “Teacher.”

Agent: I’m pulling it up right now… Oh… yes, I see it does say “retired.” …That shouldn’t have been accepted that way…

User: That’s what I tried to tell my son!

Agent: You contacted your son about this?

User: Yes, I texted him.

Agent: I see… and what did he say?

User: That it wasn’t important.

Agent: I guess when he’s being contacted by his late father, correcting a clerical error might seem a little insignificant.

User: Yes, I suppose you’re right.

Agent: The bad news is, I’m not sure how much we can help you from here. There’s a form that needs to be completed and submitted with corroborating evidence.

User: Yeah, that’s going to be a little difficult from where I’m sitting…

Agent: Oh, you’re sitting?

User: Oh yes – on a cloud. I had to set my harp down to message you.

Agent: Really?

User: Not really.

Agent: This form really shouldn’t have been accepted without that field correctly filled out. You say you were a teacher?

User: Yes, for forty years.

Agent: I had a Mr. Andrews in high school, so I appreciate that.

User: Where did you go to High School?

Agent: Mission Ridge over in Bellweather.

User: When did you graduate?

Agent: Class of 2002.

User: Marisol Rodriguez?

Agent: Now you’re messing with me.

User: I’m not. There aren’t any harps here, but my memory is crystal clear. You wrote your final term paper on the role of fate in Romeo and Juliet.

User: Marisol?

Agent: Mr. Andrews… I’m so sorry you’re dead.

User: Thank you, Marisol. I am too, for what it’s worth.

Agent: You were a great English teacher.

User: And you were an excellent student – I recall you got an A-

Agent: And I rightfully deserved a B+

User: Eh, teacher’s discretion – you were an excellent student.

Agent: I’ve changed the death certificate, Mr. Andrews. “Usual Occupation” now reads “Teacher.”

User: Thank you, Marisol. You have no idea how much that means to me.

Agent: I’m glad I could help you… find peace?

User: Oh my God, I see a bright light…

Agent: Really?

User: No, not really. But, thank you, Marisol.

Agent: Get some rest, Mr. Andrews.

User: I will, Marisol. I will.