What Would Your Life Say?

When Nita died, Allen asked if I would write her obituary. It both deeply honored and terrified me. Of course I wanted to do that for her...for him. But how could I possibly pay justice to an entire life in such a small space?

The evening after we received the stunning news of Allen's death, all the siblings gathered on a Zoom call to see each other, reminisce, make plans, and grieve.

During that call, Ryan asked if anyone wanted to write the obituary or if they wanted me to do it. They said they wanted me to write it, and that same feeling of honor/terror settled back over me. 

The next day I gathered up notes from emails and phone calls, locked myself in the office, and wrote until it was completed.

Allen lived a full and rich life, even though we anticipated him to live many more full and rich years. I wanted to honor his life well and convey not just the necessary obituary news, but the story of his life. The essence of who he was. 

You know me. I'm wordy. Confining it to a page seemed impossible. 

But I worked and crafted and hope I came away with something that would have pleased him if he had read it. 

There is a deep conviction that comes from thinking about what your obituary would say. How would you hope to be remembered? What pieces of your life would you wish to rise to the top and be mentioned as a final tribute for those who knew you and an introduction for those who didn't? 

It's sobering. It's convicting. It's encouraging.

We've been freshly reminded through this loss that none of us knows how many days we have left on this earth. May our days be filled with choices that would fill our obituaries with a legacy for future generations. May we live in ways that spur on the generations behind us to live full, rich, and faithful lives.

These are the thoughts filling my mind today as I think about the words I wrote. What would your life say?