… for he brings change, which is always good. That’s the essence of the fourteenth card, Trump number 13 – Death.
And here’s a good joke about death:
A man discovers that he has less than twenty-four hours to live. He goes home immediately to his wife, breaks the news and then tells her: “darling, I just want to spend the rest of my life making love to you.”
She tearfully agrees and they proceed to spend the night in amorous pursuits, and finally drift off to sleep in each other’s arms. Early in the wee hours of the next morning, he awakens, and, knowing he now has less than an hour to live (the doctors in the Joke Universe are very precise about these things), gently wakes his sleeping wife and asks her if they might make love one last time before he dies. She agrees, but seems a bit resentful, and wishing complete honesty in his last extremity, asks her why.
“Well, it’s all right for you,” she grumbles reproachfully. “You don’t have to get up later and plan the funeral.”
Or, even worse:
Old Man MacNevin, on his death bed, lifts up his head and catches the heavenly aroma of his dear wife’s glazed ham. He calls to his little grand-daughter: “Amy, m’dear, be a good girl and fetch a dying man a slice of your granny’s ham.”
“I can’t,” the girl reports, coming back from the kitchen a few seconds later. “Granny says it’s for the wake.”