Our Future Is Glorious!

   I was around eight years old. My dad took me and my older brother to the hospital to say good-bye to Aunt Meredith. I had a vague conception of this woman. A faithful prayer warrior who chose to remain single because her only proposal was from a man who didn’t know Jesus. But as a child, the only thing I saw when I entered that depressing death chamber of a hospital room was that Meredith was withered, gaunt, and weak. I just wanted to “say my goodbyes” and get out of there. 

   Dad did most of the talking while Meredith lay there like a quasi-animated corpse attempting weak smiles, as my brother and I lingered at the end of the bed staring uneasily at our shoes. Upon leaving, my brother and I were corralled to her bedside and instructed to, “say goodbye to Meredith.”

   As we all turned to leave, Meredith stirred. In considerable pain, clinging to the side rails of the bed, her knuckles turning white beneath the strain of holding up half her body weight and with arms shaking, she set her jaw. My dad leaned down to receive her message. With eyes that seemed to silmultaneously twinkle and flash with fire, interrupted by ghastly breaths and moans of pain, she declared, “I have such a glorious future!”

   I don’t know what Aunt Meredith’s last words were — but those were the last I ever heard her speak. Those words have been rin ...

Want to read more?

Subscribe today!

Learn how to email this article to others