My Eulogy

Antiqued color photo of Mt. Arkansas

I received a question in my inbox this morning.

If I wrote my own eulogy, what would it say?

I don’t do enough work around my own death. There is always tomorrow. But tomorrow may not come. Natural disasters, automobile accidents, nuclear bombs or just a plain slip and fall in the shower. One minute from now or now, death can come for me.

If I am lucky, I’ll get 36500 days on this blue orb. I have no idea, really, when I will die. But there is always tomorrow. What is tomorrow, exactly. Where is tomorrow?

That muddle is gauze I wrap around my consciousness. But I can pull that gauze off and choose to live today like it might be my last.

Then my eulogy might be, “He seized every moment and made each one his own.”

What might your eulogy be?

My essay collection, Moxie, Vol. 1, will be released later this year.

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