The Gift

No matter how much we think we are loved, the cynic in many of us occasionally wonders if anyone would REALLY care if we were no longer here. We fantasize about being able to somehow attend our own funerals and see who the true mourners are. 

This week, due to the sad passing of a woman bearing the same first and last name, and being close to my own age, I was given a bit of a chance to see how people would react to my passing. I have had phone calls from people with tears in their voices, telling me how glad they were that I was not the Karen Sanders who had passed on. I walked in Cracker Barrel where my longtime waitress, Nancy, looked at me as if she had seen a ghost. With tears in her eyes, she told me she had been crying for two days, thinking I was gone. What a humbling and emotional experience this has been.

Of course, some friends and family knew that the birth date under the name in the Riles funeral ad was not mine and were not worried, thank goodness.

My heart goes out to the family and friends of Karen Cynthia Sanders. May she rest in perfect peace.