“What would you like to drink, Mr Capone?” asks Alfred, my loyal butler.
“I’ll take a glass of scotch and bring me my pipe. You know I like to smoke when I drink.” Actually I like to smoke all day everyday. Alfred brings me my pipe and scotch with a fake smile because he knows I need to quit.
“ What do you have planned for the rest of the night?” he asks.
Just smoking I think in my head. “ I’m going to go check out how the farm is looking.” Obviously, I bring my pipe while I walk to the distillery that I inherited from my grandfather. My grandpa was a very famous mobster that smuggled alcohol during the prohibition times. I now live by his unknown distillery and decided to keep making alcohol. He also left me some of his money. So I purchased more land and planted my love, tobacco. The tobacco has given me lots and lots of money.
The tobacco is now ready to be harvested. I think I may begin harvesting the crop tomorrow morning after my doctor’s appointment. I go back inside and ask Alfred to wake me up at 6 AM. The doctor appointment is at 8 o’clock and I hate being late.
I awake to my bulldog, Beauford, licking my face instead of Alfred at 5. I start my morning with a cup of coffee and a few smokes. Then, I shower, put on my suit and comb my gray beard. I then pet ol’ Beauford, grab my cane, and hop in my 1955 Ford F-100. I drive into the town of Denton, North Carolina to go see Dr. Murphy.
I walk in and tell the front desk to tell Dr. Murphy that I am here. In little time, he comes out and I follow him into his office. “What’s your name and age?” he asks. “ Francis Capone, age 67.”
“How do you feel?”
“I feel great. I sometimes have a cough in the morning but nothing too serious.”
“Do you smoke or drink?”
Everyday I think. “Every now and then.”
“Why don’t we give you a chest x-ray. Just for safety measures.”

When the results came back, my heart sunk. “I am so sorry Mr. Capone. We found a very large tumor in your lungs. You have lung cancer and you don’t have much time to live. My best estimate would be approximately one year at the most. You could go through chemotherapy but I think it may be too late for that. I am so sorry. If I was you, I would start marking things off my bucket list.”
The only thing on my list is to see my son again, Benjamin. I haven’t talked to him since he was 14. When my wife died in a car accident, the bond between us finally snapped and he ran away to a friend’s house. I let him stay there because he was happy there and unhappy with me. I went to his graduation ceremony where they said he was going to Notre Dame. I have never seen him since that hot June day.
I decide to go straight to Notre Dame from Dr. Murphy’s office. But once I get to the college of Notre Dame, I am not sure where to start to find my child. I decide to go straight to the dean, John T. McGreevy.
As I walk in to his office he greets me and I shake his hand. “Hi. I’m Francis Capone.” I say. “ I believe that my son graduated from here a few years back. His name is Benjamin Capone and I was wondering where he might be at today.”
John tells me surprised, “ You are Benjamin Capone’s father? It is a pleasure meeting you! He was the best football player to come out of this college, but I am sure you already knew that.”
“My son played football?” Now that I think about it I never watch football on television.
“Oh yes. Your son won the Heisman trophy playing quarterback at this wonderful college. But he blew out his knee his senior year and never touched a football again. If that didn’t happen, your son would probably be playing in the NFL.”
“What does he do now?”
“He is a pastor up in Alaska I believe. Let me look for which town exactly.” He goes and opens a big book and flips a few pages. “The town is Anchor Point, Alaska. It’s a pretty small town south of Anchorage.” I thank him and call Alfred.
“Alfred?”
“Yes Mr. Capone?”
“I need a plane ticket to Alaska so I can go to Anchor Point.”
“I’m on it. May I ask why?” says Alfred.
“I’m going to see Ben.”
I drive back to my home and tell Alfred the bad news. Alfred gives me a hug and tells me the plane leaves at 8 o’clock in the morning. I go outside and check on the farm. I take out my pipe and have my last smoke. I will never touch tobacco again, but just this last time. After my smoke, I decide to go to bed. I have a big day tomorrow by meeting my son. 
I awake to Beauford licking my face again at 5 in the morning. I go through my morning routine by having a cup of coffee. I take out my pipe and take a puff before I quickly stop myself. I go through the rest of my morning routine and decide to go to the airport a little earlier.
As I go through security, my pipe triggers the alarm and they search my bag but still give me back my pipe. I go on the plane and I begin to get a little nervous because I have never flown on a plane before. I take out my pipe and the stewardess stops me and asks me to put it away because the plane is a non-smoking aircraft. As the plane lands in Alaska, I put on my jacket because it is much colder up here than back home.
I go to the car rentals and I ask to drive my favorite car, a 1966 Shelby. He tells me that the car is very expensive but I brush that off. “I’m dying anyways.” I tell him but he thinks it is a joke. It is far from a joke. When I begin to drive my favorite car around the city of Anchorage, I decide to start my journey to Ben. I start to pulI up to a new town and begin to see the sign, it says Anchor Point, population: 1,845.
I keep driving through the town and see a church so I decide to go inside of it to find Ben. I walk in and ask the person at the front desk where Ben is.
“Ben? I don’t know any Ben that goes to this church.”
“He is the pastor.” I tell her.
“ No, no, no. He is the pastor at the other luthern church. This is Funny River Community Church.” I thank her and get back in the Shelby. I drive down the road and see a cross in the yard that says Faith Lutheran Church of Homer. This must be it I think to myself. I try to park my car but there are so many cars there already. There must be a church service going on I think to myself. No it is a Monday. What church has a service on Monday? I walk into the church and hear the choir singing. I try to sneak in the back without making a scene while everyone is singing to the music. I sit next to a sobbing woman and notice that it is a funereal. I look up at the dark black casket. I cry a little in my heart knowing that the person in the casket will be me in a year. As the music ends, a man walks up to the front of the church and begins to speak. It is Ben. I am positive of it.
As he begins his sermon, we make eye contact and he has a very awkward pause as if he was surprised I was there. He started to tremble and looked very nervous up in front of the whole congregation. As he continued through his sermon, he told a story about his childhood that I remember all too well. “It was a hot day in Denton and we got a call from the police department saying that my mother has been killed in a car accident. I never was very close with my father and she helped us through our difficulties. But once she was gone we never got along. I left and went to a friend’s house and lived there until I went to college. I haven’t seen my father since.” He looks back at me and gives me a smile. “Until today.”

The funereal ended and I went to say Hello to Ben. I walk over after he has shook hands and gave hugs to the victim’s friends and family. “Hello Ben. How are you?”
Instantly, Ben gave me a big hug and said, “ It is very good to see you. Why don’t you stop by at my place?”
I told him “I don’t want to ruin any plans you have for the night.”
“ Nonsense, you can meet my wife and kids.” Wife and kids? I have grandchildren? As I follow my son’s car to his home to meet his wife and kids, I can’t believe the beautiful scenery. We weave through the forest trees to get to his house. All of a sudden we pull up to a nice, but tiny house and he steps out of his car.
“Here we are.” Ben says. I follow him into his home. We walk in and I hear little kids scream “Daddy!” Rounding the corner to give their dad a big hug, they quickly stop and look at me.
“Who is this, Dad?” The two young girls looked at me as if I were a ghost.
“This is your grandpa. Grandpa meet Madison and Mary.” All of a sudden they start to wrap their arms around my legs to give me a hug. I crouch down and give them a hug back.    “Where’s Mom?” Ben asks.
“She is in the kitchen cooking the moose you shot last week.” Moose? I’ve never even seen a moose in real life before. We walk in and he introduces me to his wife, Caroline. She is a very pretty girl.
“Sit down, sit down. Make yourself at home. Supper will be right out.” She brings out a big plate full of moose and dishes me up some. “Have you ever had moose before?” I tell her that I haven’t even seen one before. “You’re in for a treat.” While eating the scrumptious moose, Madison and Mary started to talk about their school. How have I missed the first 6 years of their lives? How have I missed them getting born? How have I not seen them before? We keep talking, but the clock keeps turning and they have to go to bed. I keep talking to Ben and I haven’t told him that I have cancer yet. I start to bring up the funereal.
“ You had a good sermon today. Who was the person in the casket?”
“Her name is Barb, Barb Remmy. She was a sweet, old lady but she was very old. Time caught up with her and she died at the age of 99. She was a very nice lady and it will be sad to not see her in the choir anymore.”
“She was in the choir at the age of 99?” I ask very surprised. “I wish I would live to that age.”
“Who says that you can’t?” asks Ben.
“Fate, I guess. I have cancer and I have less than a year to live.” He acted very surprised but I knew he wasn’t. I have been smoking long before he was born. When his mother passed away I smoke even more. He had to know that I was going to get cancer someday.
He asks me, “Why don’t you go through chemotherapy?” “The doctor said it might be too late for that and even if it wasn’t I don’t think I would have. I don’t want to live a terrible life to try to stay alive and suffer.” We began to talk about other ways to stay alive but I think Why? “I have already done the only thing on my bucket list by meeting you again. But you don’t know that I have just added a new thing on.”

I knew I couldn’t stay with them too late so I said my goodbyes as if I wasn’t going to see him again. I knew I wasn’t going to see him again. I told him to come over to North Carolina sometime but I felt like he never would. Why would he? He is doing well without me. Why would he come back  I went and slept at the nearest motel in Anchor Point. All of a sudden, it hit me.
I began to get a vicious cough. I coughed and coughed and coughed until I started coughing up blood. A mixture of blood and phlegm came pouring out of my throat. I decided to call Alfred and told him I need a plane back in the morning. He said, “Ok Mr. Capone. How was your stay?”
“Lovely.” I tell him. “But, all of a sudden I got just an absolutely vicious cough that I can’t control.”
“I will find the earliest flight I can.” He later texts me saying that he found one at 10 in the morning. I wake up feeling even worse than the night before. I pack my bags, and hop in the Shelby to the airport. I feel like I am not going to make it home without coughing my lungs out. But, somehow I did.

Months passed of complete misery and one day I gave up. I wrote out my will and put it in my desk for someone to read. On the top it says: Read before my funereal but after I die. It was a very short, but meaningful will.  I asked Alfred to shut the door and asked him for my pipe and a glass of scotch, the two things that has killed me. I sat on my favorite couch, put the tobacco in the pipe and lit it. I take one big puff out of my pipe and I feel my lungs collapse. I gasp for breath but I can’t seem to find any air. I start to see the light and begin to follow it. I lived a good life and I am ready to die.

My will reads: “If you are reading this it means I have died. I would like to thank all of you for coming. First I would like to give my lovely dog, Beauford, to Alfred. Alfred, make sure I get buried with my pipe and a glass of scotch, the two things I’ve asked for for years. I would also like to give Alfred my farm and half of my $8 million as long as he harvests the last batch of tobacco this year. The other half of my money will go to my son, Benjamin Capone, and his family, Dorothy, Madison and Mary. The only catch to this is he has to be the pastor at my funeral. Tell him that this is the only other thing on my bucket list.