I attended a funeral today for the woman (a mother of three) who lived next door to me for virtually my entire life. It was truly beautiful, and it broke my heart to see the deep pain of her family, particularly her husband.
So naturally today I have been thinking a lot about death. During the funeral, this woman’s only daughter spoke for several minutes about her mother’s life. If I wasn’t one myself, I don’t think I would have paid quite as close attention to the adjectives she used to describe her mom. I began wondering what my daughters would say about me. I am sure they would find good things to say, because that is what you are supposed to do at funerals, but would I be worthy of their praise?
I know that nobody is perfect, but this experience today reminded that I want to try a little harder to be a little better.
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