Hang onto your fork

A woman had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to
live. As she was getting her things ‘in order’, she contacted her pastor and asked him to
come to her house to discuss her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at
her funeral service, what Scripture texts she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to
be buried in. The woman also requested to be buried with her favourite Bible.
When all seemed to be attended to, the woman said: ‘And there’s one more thing’.

‘What’s that?’ asked the pastor.

‘I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.’

The pastor tried to hide his surprise. Was she perhaps lapsing into senility? Cautiously, he
asked: ‘Why would a fork be so important to you? So important that you want to be buried
with it?’

The woman explained: ‘In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners,
I always remembered that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone
would invariably call out: “Hang onto your fork”. It was my favourite part of those evenings,
because I knew that the wonderful desserts were coming: light and flaky apple strudels,
velvety chocolate cakes or fruit-laden pavlovas.

‘So, when people see me lying there, I know they will ask: “What’s with the fork?” And I want
you to tell them that I’m hanging onto my fork, because the best is yet to come.