I came down to Wyoming to help out my mom.
Actually, now that I think about it I don't think I came to help her out.
I think I came to help me out. I think I just needed a dose of Mom!
I haven't been with my Mom since last October.
Although to many that may not seem like long, but for me it is.
I remember when I was living in Ireland there was a little older lady that loved to recite poetry.
She once recited a poem entitled,
"They Cannot Read Their Tombstones When They're Gone."
all I can remember for sure are the following lines.
"If you think there’s praise that due them,
now’s the time to give it to them.
For they cannot read their tombstones when their gone.”
I think I am going to try to find the rest of that poem.
I remember I recorded it onto a cassette tape.
It's around somewhere. In the meantime I am going to try to live by the words of the poem.
Addendum November 9, 2015
I found the words a couple of times. These are slightly different, but at least it is the basic concept. I just don't want to lose it again.
A MAN CAN’T READ HIS TOMBSTONE WHEN HE’S DEAD
When, with pleasure, you are viewing
Any work a man is doing
And you like him, or you love him,
Tell him now.
Do not withhold your approbation
‘Til the parson makes oration
And he lies with snowy lilies on his brow.
For no matter how you shout it
He won’t know a thing about it;
He won’t know the many tear drops that you shed,
If you think that praise is due him,
Now’s the time to give it to him.
Cause a man can’t read his tombstone when he’d dead.
More than fame and more than money
Is your word both kind and sunny
And the hearty, warm approval of a friend.
It give to life a savor
Makes us stronger, and yes, braver
And it gives us true encouragement to the end.
If he wins your praise, bestow it;
If you like him, let him know it.
Let the words of true encouragement be said.
Do not wait ‘til life is over,
And he lies beneath the clover,
Cause a man can’t read his tombstone when he’s dead.
Author unknown
