When Advertising and Billing Don't Connect

We're rolling through a lovely landscape on our way to see lovely relatives, but the latest Christmas mail was the last thing I expected. The company that rented my recently-deceased husband his oxygen tanks, which we informed of his death in November, and which sent three servicemen, all of whom offered condolences, to pick up leftover tanks and a breathing apparatus,  just sent a ten-percent-off special with the last bill we have to pay. You would think some office worker or administrator might have registered the fact that we no longer need oxygen products--especially not those featuring a cheerful elderly gent holding red Christmas tree ornaments, apparently thrilled to be offered a whole ten percent off his next set of tanks. His grin radiates the kind of excitement I associate with men and football games. Speaking of which, my husband loved football. I hated it, but loved to watch him watching it. Tossing the ten-percent special into the trash, I think how he'd have found the incident amusing, and I smile instead of crying. He would have raised a glass of red wine with me and laughed. I hope that wherever he is, he can still laugh.