Two 90-year-old women, Rose and Dorothy, had been friends all of their
lives.

When it was clear that Rose was dying, Dorothy visited her every day.
One day Dorothy said, "Rose, we both loved playing women’s softball all
our lives, and we played all through High School. Please do me one favor:
when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there’s women’s
soft-ball there."

Rose looked up at Dorothy from her deathbed and said, "Dorothy, you’ve
been my best friend for many years.. If it’s at all possible, I’ll do
this favor for you." Shortly after that, Rose passed on.

At midnight a few nights later, Dorothy was awakened from a sound sleep
by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to her,
"Dorothy, Dorothy."

"Who is it?" asked Dorothy, sitting up suddenly. "Who is it?"

"Dorothy — it’s me, Rose."
"You’re not Rose. Rose just died."

"I’m telling you, it’s me, Rose," insisted the voice.

"Rose! Where are you?"

"In Heaven," replied Rose. "I have some really good news and a little bad
news."

"Tell me the good news first," said Dorothy.

"The good news," Rose said, "is that there’s Softball in Heaven.
Better yet, all of our old buddies who died before us are here, too.
Better than that, we’re all young again. Better still, it’s always
springtime, and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play
softball all we want, and we never get tired."

"That’s fantastic," said Dorothy. "It’s beyond my wildest dreams! So
what’s the bad news?"

"You’re pitching Tuesday."