I was at a memorial service yesterday for a friend who died at age 28 from cancer. It was a fantastic service and about as light as a memorial can be. Her life was truly celebrated, and that does her as much honor as I can imagine.
During a portion of the service, a note, left behind in her Bible, was read. I suppose it was because of the note that the service could be help in such peace. We were not told when the note was written, if it had been penned during her last times she knew. The idea occurred to me that we don't know when we'll be done, which of our words will be our last, and it got me to thinking of what my last words would likely be. Would they be uplifting, or a complaint? A joke? A noise resembling a young muskrat being stepped on? I suppose that wouldn't really be a last word (Not if you count the gurgling sound).
Lately, I've been so enveloped with life (not in the best of ways), that I've been running dry on material that would be even of slight interest. Therefore, periodically, I will leave you with some potential last words.
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