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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2078188-Gone
Rated: E · Short Story · Inspirational · #2078188
A man in his casket looking at the people that came to say their final fair well.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to"... I remember hearing those words so many years ago. It was about marriage then. Today it's the other end of the trail of life. Where did the time go? Sometimes it feels like yesterday, other times it feels like it was maybe a hundred years back that those words were spoken in my presence.

Now the words I hear are "He don't look bad for being 83. His kids never looked anything like him". That was Maggie, she is the neighborhood gossiper.

"Maybe he had help, you know how the rumors were about his wife." That's Joan, she was always thinking every guy that saw her wanted to take her to bed, but in reality no one, not even her husband wanted to spend time with her. Maybe that's why he bought a bar, and spends all his time working there.

"Dam, I didn't know he owned a suit, always saw him in dirty jeans and those too big flannel shirt's." That's my neighbor Harold, always borrowing my tools, or stopping by to drink my beer.

"I'm really going to miss him, he was such a friend." Yeah, you are going to miss all the free beer and me finishing or fixing what you broke or could not complete. On and on the people that passed by the casket spoke.. Some spoke in kindness, others in hate, even a few in awe.

"Is it true he gave a lot of money to the Church? I heard also that he deeded his land over to the Shade Tree folks for a home for battered women." That was Helen, she was always egging her husband on, making him mad and when he hit her shew would run outside shouting her husband beat her. Then later that day or night they would get it on, and make loud passionate love. Weird broad.

Wow! There's old John looking down at me. Ha, all shaved, hair combed, clean clothes, even got his glasses' on. I wonder if he remembers he owes me twenty bucks.

The minister moved to the podium, and everyone sat and waited. He cleared his throat several times. Finally he said: "I am going to read what Tom wrote to be said at his final gathering.

God put me here on this earth to accomplish many things. He gave me lots of chances to complete those tasks. I guess he finally got tired of giving me the chances to do as I was directed, and he has called me home.

I am leaving most of my money to places I feel can use it. The Church, the animal shelter, the local food bank. My house and land I am giving to the Shade Tree group as a home for battered women. My cars are going to the high school automotive department for the students to learn on.

This should end all the rumors about what I did with all my so called wealth.

To those of you that came here today, I say thanks, and ask where were you when I needed help? Any of you ever offer to cut my lawn, or shovel my sidewalk, or repair my broken window? Look around, everyone here knows someone in this room. Don't wait until they die to visit them. Go see someone when this is over. Share the time you have with those around you. Don't send your kids to Sunday School, bring them. Enjoy those around you, share what time you have left, because one of these days, God is going to call YOU home."

The minister folded the paper and said: "Remember what Tom said, visit and look after each other, and please go to your church." The minister walked away and out of sight.

Those in attendance sat quietly for a few minutes, and finally someone got up. Others followed, and everyone left the church. Most disregarding the message heard on Tom's final day.

The funeral director and his staff closed the casket, and slowly rolled it out to the coach for the trip to Tom's place of rest.
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