Below are two documents with incredible words of wisdom and comfort. At least they swaddle me with amazing, welcomed comfort. None is directly correlated to my Christian background. Ironic.

I haven't dismissed my faith at all, but I put it on pause every so often to get my footing when I feel I'm standing on quicksand.

Today I learned and realized that when my body does decide to quit on me (within the next hour or thirty years from now) and my family plans a memorial service... I don't want it to be about death and salvation. I want none of that. I don't want sappy hymns about greener pastures and my poor, saved soul. None of that. I don't want my family to have to sit and hear about Jesus' suffering on my behalf. They already know it. They get it. I want none of that!

Instead, I pray and will continue to strive that I'll be remembered by what I've left behind... that some essence of me will always linger to comfort my family. I hope they will choose pleasing words when they remember me. I pray they regale stories that make them laugh so hard they'll double over and gasp for air when the hilarity becomes bigger than the life that has left. I pray that good words come to mind when I'm gone. Nothing fancy. Just good. That's what I want with every molecular wish possible.

So that as long as they will live... so will I.

*****

Most my friends are in the same predicament I am right now regarding our life timelines. The only difference is that I've been handed a diagnosis. We've all stepped over to the other side of our statistical life spans, but I've been given the luxury to prepare. To savor the remaining time... unless that dang banana peel catches me off guard.

I've been handed a gift, really, if you think about it. We've all been handed the *Save the Date* notification, and at some point the invitation will arrive. It's an event we're all invited to - Death doesn't shun anyone - nor is it an invitation we can refuse, ignore. *Regrets Only* is not an option. But like most of us, I'm not ready to RSVP.

*****

Anyway, the first words I want to share are a portion of an inspiring document written by a physicist and I believe it was originally read on NPR. I love it. Really really like what it implies. I've changed the pronouns for the purpose of this post.


YOU WANT A PHYSICIST

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing family about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your family to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that once was, remains with them in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping family that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you'd hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted family in the pew and tell them that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your family rocks in the loving arms of each other, may the physicist let them know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are their eyes, which those photons created within constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable, and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they'll be comforted to know your energy's still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you're just less orderly. Amen.

- Aaron Freeman

*****

This second document is a prayer given to me after my mother died. It's equally powerful for me. It's called The Gates of Prayer. It's beautiful.

THE GATES OF PRAYER

A Jewish Prayer

As long as we live, they too will live,
for they are now a part of us,
as we remember them.

At the rising sun and at its going down
we remember them.

At the blowing of the wind and the chill of winter
we remember them.

At the opening of the buds and the rebirth of spring
we remember them.

At the blueness of the skies and the warmth of summer
we remember them.

At the rustling of the leaves and the beauty of autumn
we remember them.

At the beginning of the year and when it ends
we remember them.

As long as we live, they too will live,
for they are now a part of us,
as we remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength
we remember them.

When we are lost and sick at heart
we remember them.

When we have decisions that are difficult to make
we remember them.

When we have joy we crave to share
we remember them.

When we have achievements that are based on theirs
we remember them.

For as long as we live, they too will live,
for they are now a part of us,
as we remember them.

As always and always, thanks for listening.