Obituaries can be a loving, often sad, tribute to someone’s life and accomplishments, but a Texas man decided to go a different direction with his father’s. Charles Boehm is actually cracking people up with the candid, unconventional obituary he wrote for his dad, Robert Boehm. But he shares that it’s not meant to be disrespectful, but more of an honest testimonial about him, as well as the chance to let people in his small town of Clarendon, Texas, laugh with Robert one more time.
“Robert Adolph Boehm, in accordance with his lifelong dedication to his own personal brand of decorum, muttered his last unintelligible and likely unnecessary curse on October 6, 2024, shortly before tripping backward over ‘some stupid bleeping thing’ and hitting his head on the floor,” the obituary begins.
- It goes on to say that when he was born in 1950, “God immediately and thankfully broke the mold and attempted to cover up the evidence.”
- Robert didn’t serve in the military, which “was probably for the best,” according to the obit, because when he took up shooting as a hobby later in life, “he managed to blow not one, but two holes in the dash of his own car on two separate occasions.”
- Charles shares that his dad worked “as a semi-professional truck driver — not to be confused with a professional semi-truck driver.”
- He also loved to collect harmonicas, which caused “his beloved dogs to howl continuously at odd hours of the night to entertain his many neighbors” and he would sometimes “give to his many, many, many grandchildren and great-grandchildren to play loudly during long road trips with their parents.”
- Robert’s wife and Charles’ mom, Dianne, passed away in February, which the obituary teases was “God finally showing mercy upon her” so she could get “the heck out of there for some well-earned peace and quiet.”
- “We have all done our best to enjoy/weather Robert’s antics up to this point, but he is God’s problem now,” it concludes. “A tip jar will be available in the front; flowers are also acceptable.”
Source: NY Post