Walking through a churchyard, I noticed a tombstone inscription that read "Peace at last". That's nice, I thought, absent-mindedly. Then I started to think about it.
If we assume the peace is to the benefit of the deceased, then how is that a good thing? Okay, so you're dead, but at least it's nice and quiet, and you're unlikely to be disturbed? Not a great consolation, really, is it? Let's say he lived in a noisy environment, one causing him frequent interruptions. Surely even that was preferable to death? In fact, if he was so bothered by this lack of peace in his everyday life, he could have just popped-in some ear-plugs and locked the door. Or moved. But no, he'd favoured death. So much so he may even have invited it.
But perhaps the beneficiary of this peace is actually the deceased's widow. Having waited for years, decades even, for him to shut-up, to stop clattering about the place, and disturbing her, she couldn't resist thanking him for finally granting her the peace she craved. She may have even helped him along a bit.
The more I think about it, the more I realise that there is not one possible good reason for this inscription. At best, it's a poor consolation for the deceased, or an eternal reminder of his lacklustre decision-making. At worst, a token of gratitude from his widow for being good enough to die, or a confession to his murder.
"Peace at last"? Not so very nice after all...
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