So how could it be told, if it had the intelligence to understand, that it died? It’s blooming. How can you say to something that is blooming that he died? How could I convince Jack that I came back from San Francisco — from Los Angeles, rather — and attended his funeral in Haverstraw, New York, and paid for his funeral and gave him a good Catholic funeral, because his sister demanded it? She didn’t pay for it, but she demanded that kind of a funeral. I would have cremated him and taken his ashes and thrown them away, but now she wanted a good Catholic funeral in holy ground. All right, I paid for it — he’s in holy ground. And the priest and all came by, and the sister got down and kissed that dead body — got down on her knees, never saw the man for years. They never spoke to each other. In fact, they disliked each other. On her knees, and she embraced her brother, she kissed that dead body. And I walked by, not stopping, because that’s not Jack. He discarded that little garment, as I will discard this suit one day. But he doesn’t know that he died. He shirked all obligations in this life. He refused to assume any responsibility, and he died just as he lived here — just a child. He died at the age of 50. I would say to Jack, here’s the money, take Vicky out to the park and show the monkeys and show the animals in the little zoo in Central Park. We lived on 50th Street and the park began at 59th. Take her in and show the things. I would walk down the street, he came on back. Many a time I saw this — took her into a little drug store, and he ordered up, say, a milkshake, chocolate milkshake, asked the man for straw. There was always two straws in one little container. He would break the thing out, give her one, he would take the other and play a game — see who can finish it first. Well, he drank the whole thing, give her one little straw. And little Vicky, about three years old, she with one straw, and this big man in his forties, and he is putting his mouth there and he’s drinking the whole thing. That’s Jack. He’s the same Jack. No transforming power in death whatsoever.1152 ¶8