When my soul departs, I do not want to be a well preserved corpse.
Let my face be full of lines for all the times drinking wine and sharing laughter.
Let my hands be riddled with arthritis, it means I've written more than checks and grocery lists.
Let my knees protest with each bend because of the time being close to the earth, creating beauty with flowers.
Let my legs be weak from dancing under the stars to music only I can hear.
Let my eyesight be fleeting from all the brilliant sunsets I've witnessed.
Let my feet be tanned like leather from walking barefoot on the shore with my children and theirs.
Let my ears no longer hear, let them be deaf from the sounds of the earth.
Let my body be used by life, because maybe, just maybe I used everything life had to give.