A few years ago newspapers in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, carried the story of a man who not only planned his own funeral, but attended it -- alive and well. He arrived at the church sitting in the back of a hearse. He sat up front among the flowers while people said nice things about him. He said it served no purpose for people to say all those good things about you after you were dead and couldn't hear them.
He had a point. How often do we wait too long to express appreciation,
gratitude, and love? How often are the words we speak at the funeral words we
should have spoken long before?