Don't Forget the Fork

During my last hand-holding, crying, good-bye time with my passing mother, she whispered out, "Don't forget my fork."  

At first I wasn't sure if I heard her right. She says funny things often to make me think. But then again, maybe it was the morphine.  So I asked: "Don't forget your fork?"

She smiled and said, "Didn't I tell you about the fork! "- She used all of her strength to tell me this story;

There once was a woman who was dying, and she had no family. She went to her pastor that was to prepare the funeral and asked him; "Pastor, will you do something for me? You are going to think it very strange, but I have no family to ask, I I hope that you will do it."  

The pastor looked at the dear woman and said. "Yes I will help. Mind if I ask now what it is you'd like me to do?" - The woman said, "Will you please put a fork in my coffin."  There was a long thoughtful pause. Afterward the pastor said, "I will do it. Please tell me why."

"Well, you see, I have been to so many of the church socials through the years and after the dinner is served and the plates are being cleared away, they always tell me to 'keep my fork'.

-- I want a fork to remind others that the best is yet to come."

Soon, my lovely mother, soon. My tears are for overwhelming gratitude for your amazing way to teach me what greatness of spirit looks like and feels like.  You are my creative compass, and will always be.