His obituary read…he died last night…sometime in the early morn…
He was 95 years old when he passed…in the house where he was born…
In the town he never left…in the town where he had grown…
In the town he loved so dearly…in the town he called his home.
And though he never traveled…never ventured to any other place…
the article stated this 95 year old man…died…
with a smile on his face.
For when that fateful time arrived…at the moment his life would end…
his house was filled from top to bottom with family…and friends.
As I finished his obituary I wondered about the path in life he chose…
living his life in just one place…like a solitary rose.
95 years old…never traveled…was he happy?
Well, I guess that all depends…
for he seemed to find his happiness amid his family and friends.
I guess each person finds happiness in their own way…
in their own time and their own place…
and, perhaps, the best that we can hope for…
is to die with a smile on our face….
To die in the bosom of our family and friends…
to die with angels hovering above….
to die knowing as we rest our eyes one final time
we’re surrounded by those we love.
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