Helpline

"Thanks for calling the Helpline; my name is Roger. May I have your name and number in case we get disconnected?" "Uh ... it's Death," the voice responded. "I'm the Angel of Death." "Okay, well ... hello, Death," Roger said calmly. "How can I help you today?" "Well, I've just always wanted to call, I guess - to see what the fuss is about," Death whispered. "Y'know, you feel terrible about your life and then you call and you find hope blah blah blah." "Are you feeling terrible about your life today? Has something happened?" Roger asked, his voice even and steady. "Not my life, really; that's not a thing," Death replied. "My job is the problem. My job is hard." "We spend a lot of time at our jobs and, when they're hard, it can feel overwhelming and affect other parts of our lives," Roger said gently. "So, maybe, it's the perfect time to look at our whole life and our priorities." "Maybe ... ," Death answered, a bit encouraged. They talked for almost 20 minutes (about life and balance and how to stay positive) and Death marveled. At the end of the call, he sat in his office staring at the ledger of souls to retrieve and took the first steps towards scheduling self-care and planning a vacation.