Hannah Winkler Has Passed

   The 23 year old Kimball Township resident had a bad heart, and lots of other things wrong with her as a result. On December 26, after ten years of surgeries and procedures, she went to be with the Lord.

Hannah's story was documented by regular updates posted on two local Facebook pages; vicarious accounts of someone else's suffering maintained to give bored cat ladies of all ages a real-time soap opera to follow, and to beat the drum for her GoFundMe account. 

With her passing, the updates have stopped. Your Bloggers, however, are sensitive to the needs of the community and have stepped up to fill the void. Our field correspondents in the afterlife continue to provide us with fresh news; daily Hannahgrams to keep her followers well informed.

Yes, she made it, but the young millennials who are in charge of supplies Up There -- a sort of angelic Quartermaster Corps -- needed four tries before they could find a halo that fit her, and still haven't located a pair of wings that will stay on and allow her to fly without crashing face-first into the nearest cloud. So, for now, Hannah must get around by walking or taking the bus. 

Hannah has also, since the day she passed through the pearly gates, been complaining. The cell phone signals suck. The WiFi sucks. She can't log onto Instagram or Snapchat, and it takes her ten minutes to get Facebook to open. (They must have Iwarp like we do.) Lifetime is a premium channel. There's no Starbucks. None of the ice cream places have Chocolate Chunky Monkey. None of the grocery stores have her favorite brand of mineral water. The bus is never on time. (She should be used to that by now.) On and on and on. In other words, acting like a typical spoiled 23 year old Gen Z snowflake who's been told from the beginning that she's special, and not to worry because everything will be all right. 

Well, it wasn't. And it won't be, as long as the only nail salon is booked solid four weeks in advance, and the singles bars have a dozen men for every woman. All the men want to talk about, we're told,  are motorcycles and deer hunting. Are you sure that's Heaven? we asked our reporters. It sounds more like Croswell. They assured us it was. The air conditioning works great, though, and Sister Sashes is nowhere to be seen. 

So make yourself at home, dearie. And stop whining.  When Heaven finally gets broadband and upgrades to 3G -- it's coming, just be patient -- you'll be able to spend all day on Facebook. And that's the whole point of being in Heaven, ain't it?

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