Today was the funeral for Hubby's great aunt. It was a lovely service although extremely hot – June, 1:30 in the afternoon, and in Kissimmee which in my opinion is the hottest part of Florida. The temperature was 100 degrees. It was beautiful to see how at peace the friends and family were. Though it was sad to lose her not many tears were shed. It seemed that everyone knew she was in a better place. On the way home I opened the rolled up piece of paper we were all given because I was curious about the fork rubber banded to it. I'm sure some of you have heard this before but it was new to me.
Keep Your Fork!
There was a woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. As she was getting her things "in order" she contacted her pastor to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. The woman also requested to be buried with her favorite Bible. Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remember something very important to her.
"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.
"What's that?" came the pastor’s reply.
"This is very important," the woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The pastor stood looking at the woman not knowing quite what to say. "That surprises you, doesn't it", the woman asked.
"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor.
The woman explained. "In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep dish apple pie. Something wonderful and with substance! So I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder "What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: "Keep your fork...the best is yet to come."
The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the woman goodbye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She KNEW something better was coming.
He was right.
So the next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you, oh so gently, that the best is yet to come...