Ok...Todays entry goes to my Munchkins Mama.

She is having a hard time right now. Her grandpa died and I feel so much for her. I have not been able to get ahold of her. I think she has gone back home for the funeral. I am of corse worried for my friend.

She had told me the day before that she thought this may happen soon, however when I got the message at home that it had happened I could have cried.

All I wanted to do was to go down to her and give her a hug and tell her it was going to be ok. She has her booby, my munchkin and her son batman to comfort her of corse, but sometimes there is nothing like the hug of a friend that makes it somewhat easier.

Though this is a short entry, I call out to you my friend and tell you that I love you as a sister and am truely so sorry that you have had this loss. I received an e-mail at work today that may help you on this journey.


"Keep Your Fork"
There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given 3 months to live. So as she was getting her things "in order", she contacted her pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriputres she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.

Everything was in order and the pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.

"What's that?" came the pastor's reply.

"This is very important," they young woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand"

The pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.

"That suprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked.

"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor.

The young woman explained. "My grandmother once told me this story, and from there on out, I have always done so. I have also, always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement.

In all of my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!

So I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder 'What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Keep your fork...the best is yet to come."

The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye.

He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did.

She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than may people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand.

Over and over, the pastor heard the question.

"What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled.

During his message the pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her.

The pastor told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably wouldnot be able to stop thinking about it either.


This is dedicated to you...my munchkins mama. Know that I am a phone call away. I am sorry for your loss and wish to say that losing someone is never easy but know that I am here for you even if it is just to cry or get a hug...It will get easier with time.