Rest Later

As a youngster, I often caught my father scanning the obituaries in the newspaper. It never occurred to me at the time that doing so would become a practice I would make my own. When I asked my Dad as to the genesis of his habit he would laugh and say "I look every morning, if I don't see my name, I put on a pot of coffee." Fortunately, at 95, he is still percolating.

At the age of 60, reading the obituaries takes on a different meaning for me than it did at 30. Thirty years ago, I scanned the names in search of a familiar name which would prompt a call or a visit. Today, I often focus on the age of the deceased and think about how many things I've done with the extra time I've enjoyed or how best to use what potentially little I have left.

This weekend it struck me that we write our own obituary every day. I have long believed that words mean something. Never more so than in your obituary. I doubt mine will consume more than a half dozen lines on page 13 of Section F but I am going to get to work on some of the words I hope to see.

Cherished Spouse, Loving Father, Treasured Friend. These things are within my control. Each of us has the power to change the future for the better by sculpting how we wish to be remembered. Every day, with everyone.

While there may not be a building with your name on it, you can build on your good name. While the accolades may not come from the famous they can be rich indeed. There may be many things you never accomplish but you can be accomplished nonetheless.

There will be plenty of time to rest later. Put on the coffee. Better still, share a cup with a treasured friend.