Elsewhere in Norwell, back at the Washington Street Cemetery, we find the final words of Marjorie B. Harter, sharing space on her stone with her husband Loren. I'm assuming they're her final words, as the cute little poem is tagged with her initials, M.B.H. And it's a good thing she put the "B" in there, otherwise I might have considered Marvin Hamlisch as the possible writer.
Anyway, Marjorie, if she is the poet, understood the finality of everything, how death is inevitable, as her words gently slide toward her belief in the afterlife as the short lines progress.
Life - We have been long together,
In pleasant and in stormy weather.
It's hard to part when friends are dear,
Perhaps I will cause a sigh - a tear,
Then steal away, give little warning,
And in some brighter clime
Bid me "Good morning!"
I don't believe I'll be going with a poem as my epitaph, mostly because I'm just not good at the art. There are some - like Marjorie - who can pull it off. My one saving grace is the notion that there are no critics lining up in cemeteries to scour tombstones and harshly evaluate what people are choosing as their final words...except for me. So maybe I'll give it a shot. Nah, probably not. Hey...