Who will pass on without kind words? Who will have loved ones gathered for them? Who will have them stay away? If a tree is best measured when it is down, what does it say when the downed tree is not measured? Where is the measure of how we were loved when we were alive? Or the measure of how we were unloved?
If you read obituaries from your small home town, you will see things and you will wonder. Wonder about lives past. Wonder about your life to pass. What people will think. What people think now. What difference you can make. Did you even make a difference. Are you remembered. Are you forgotten.
And I have thought these things as I read this. RIP D.J.L.