An Ordinary Life Well Lived

The roar of voices at his funeral,

The mass of humanity,

The joy at his life,

The joy at seeing each other again

(Despite the somber occasion)

That is a life well lived.

They aren’t there because of a book he wrote,

Or a song he played,

Or a ball he threw;

By all common measures he lived an ordinary life,

But by any measure that matters;

His life was beautiful,

And full,

And beyond meaningful.

A life well lived is bringing joy to those who you loved,

Long after you’re gone.

It is a community of your design.

It is a family in the traditional sense;

But also one of your creation,

Through years of repetition.

Perhaps the greatest measure of a person’s life,

Is the volume at their funeral.