It ain’t me, babe

My heart broke when I saw Sebastian Gattuso had died. And I felt even worse that I could not attend the viewing or funeral.
But that all changed several months later when I ran into Sebastian at a dollar store.
“It was my cousin,” he explained, before I uttered a word. The look on my face was enough.
Sebastian’s a little older than I. I always admired him when we were in high school and then we renewed our acquaintance a few years ago when he began taking painting classes at the college where I teach. He’s the consummate gentleman.
I went right home and looked up the misleading obituary. The Sebastian Gattuso who passed was 72, close to my friend’s age. While I did not know him, I read that he left behind a mom and daughter, to whom I do offer my condolences.
My mistake was understandable, Sebastian said, adding I was not alone in making it.
“Imagine the surprise of another friend of mine,” he said, “who went to the funeral home to pay his respects and as he was walking in, I was walking out.”

Ed Ackerman