You're on your death bed. You've lived a full life, trying to be a good example for your kids, and their kids as well. They're all there to see you out to the next life, hoping that you go painlessly. You know what's coming is inevitable, but you appreciate their comforting nonetheless. You've given them all something to remember you by: Rudy, your youngest and last son, got the keys to the old Camaro. It's a bit rusty, but reliable as ever, and he'd been in love with it since you first pulled into the garage with it. Katelyn, your only daughter, got the house. She'd be starting her own family soon, and since her husband died (bless his heart) she'd need it so she wouldn't worry about rent as a single mom. Your oldest, James, would be getting your wife's ring. You'd held on to it when she lost her fight with leukemia, all those years ago. He'd taken the longest to find the love of his life, but she's a sweetheart, and they deserve the best.
You were a donor, you had joked that you wouldn't be needing anything inside you soon.. In fact, you had met the boy who would be getting your heart not too long ago. He's in the same hospital as you are now, also surrounded by loved ones. You look around: there are tears in their eyes, but they're all happy. Rudy and his wife and kids, Katelyn, her son, and James and his girlfriend. You sing your favorite song, an old Sinatra classic. You were sure they had all heard you playing it many times growing up, so they all knew the words as well. You could only hope the afterlife would be as enchanting as the lyrics seemed to imply: "Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars, let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars..." You try to continue, but your voice is getting weaker, your vision blurring, your hearing going. But you can still feel just a bit longer.
And what you feel is love. You die happy, surrounded by family.
Then some queer buys your skeleton and makes this lmao