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My old man arranged his own funeral, and planned everything so that his five grown kids would be in stitches, sitting there in the funeral home in front of his open coffin. He was really merciless with his practical jokes, and this one was the capper of them all.

The old guy did an amazing job on us. He wore a football Giants cap that I'd given him the year before, and ordered the official VFW veterans' salute for the service. This was an insane performance that brought the five of us to our knees. Three old timers in VFW uni's, featuring those Dairy Queen-style blue foldup caps, walked in. The leaders of the group, who looked as if he was days away from joining Pops, weakly crackled an order to the group: "Un-cap!" They all uncapped with that shadow of military precision that you see in old vets. Then, the leader made a speech over the coffin, which started with the words, "After many years of worldly service in the army of the Lord, Private Donohue is now reporting to his Commander-in-Chief, requests permission to enter Heaven..."

I didn't hear any more of it, because I was holding my stomach, doubled over with the effort of holding in laughter and with tears streaming down my face. The poor old sods there thought I was overcome with grief. Meanwhile, I silently vowed to my old man that I'd get him back, somehow, somewhere...

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