Today my husband and I went to a funeral. Mind you, I never met this man, and expected that we were there to show respect to his son, who is a world-renown, incredibly devoted and equally loved physician. It is no surprise that our friend is a life-long friend to many.

After our friend began with, "My father was not formally educated, yet was an uncommon man," I was glued. I wanted to know so much more, now that my curiosity was piqued. I had always wondered what kind of parents created and raised this amazing friend we hold dear, and now I would finally know!

This man was so uncommonly accomplished! Born in the Great Depression to a family without even enough money to belong to a place of worship, he led his own family in faith, became a staple in his community, and this family man grew to become a very successful carpenter and business owner. No matter what he achieved, he steadfastly refused to compromise his values, disrespect others, or take shortcuts; always he endeavored to take the high road. This man was everything you could want in a father, spouse, or friend.

Here's the thing that jolted me; we didn't really HAVE to go to his funeral. It was an hour away, and my husband met our friend's father but once. What compelled us to go was that my father-in-law and this man grew up together. My in-laws were on vacation and we felt it would be a good idea to represent them at this funeral.

Now that you have the background here, imagine this thought; what if we hadn't gone?

If neither we, nor everyone else who knew this man all found circumstances preventing attendance at his funeral, it would have been a travesty! While I cannot fathom a funeral with no one in attendance, I realized what could easily happen if everyone decided he won't know if they weren't there, and they don't feel like going to a funeral today. To see the look on our friend's face when he saw us walk in was priceless. He was both surprised and hugely grateful. We made a difference. He knew we cared and would be there for him when he needed it most. That is the least we could do for our friend, whose heart only knows kindness and compassion.

Like many, I don't look forward to attending funerals. I strongly believe that my lifelong struggle to be all I was created to be, and make a profound difference, doesn't all end with one last breath. I embrace the thought that when you look at a tombstone, it's neither the date of birth nor death that matters; it's that dash in-between those two dates that REALLY holds my heart. The unfortunately short amount of time between the birth and death on the grave of a young child might actually have included so much more substance and lessons-taught than the life of one who lived a simple, ordinary, and mundane 90-year existence. It might be too long to inscribe what this dash means on anyone's tombstone, but this dash represents the true essence of this person. I believe this essence is what carries on in some other form.

So, here we were at the funeral of someone I'd never met. I was immediately so taken by the stories I heard about this man that I was drawn to tears. He was all I wished for in a father, yet never had. His description of his amazing dad evoked a plethora of emotions from within my father's emotional absence in my own childhood. This led me to later write the last pages of my soon-to-be-released memoir (Room in the Heart; Surviving a childhood Undone, Fulfilling a Pact to Love) in the chapter, "The Last Letter to my Dad."

His family said the 82 years he lived were simply not enough. He had so many more souls to touch. I would have gladly just taken one day with this man. I found myself eagerly leaning forward on the wooden bench, as if I might be able to physically catch and keep these vicarious memories, like a child reaches for a bubble blown from someone else's wand.

How serendipitous that I came to simply show my respect, yet ended up learning the final lessons taught posthumously by a man wiser than anyone I've ever known. Who would expect to shed tears for someone who was technically a stranger?

Maybe at some point, you will find yourself wherever you were meant to be, and "meet" a person who will forever be ingrained within your soul. From that day on, they will walk with you through your days, bringing lessons that give even more meaning to your life. Enjoy your walk, my friends. You are so very welcome on mine...