The funeral was packed. We have a good sized chapel, and it was busting at the seams. Most of the seats were occupied by Robin’s friends, who each thought that they were her best friend. As I watched the chapel fill, I wondered how many friends will come to my funeral, not soon, of course, but someday. As I listened to the speakers talk about the "best friend" thing, I wondered if anyone thinks of me as their best friend.
I love people and I have lots of friends. I don’t really need anyone to be my best friend or to say that I’m their best friend, but I can’t help wondering. What did Robin do that made dozens of people feel that close to her? It’s an interesting question.
From what I heard she loved to serve, and she loved to have fun. Sounds like she could have fun anywhere, doing anything. Sounds like she could have made taking out the garbage into a party.
One of her friends said that Robin had a standard response when asked “How are you.”
“Super Dang Good,” she always said. I liked the sound of that. It has been rolling around in my mind ever since. Just yesterday the grocery store clerk asked “How are you?”
I responded without really thinking. “Super Dang Good,” I said. It just popped out. It felt good. The clerk smiled and I giggled.
I hope Robin doesn’t mind if I copy her. I should ask. It would be the polite thing to do. If only I had her new address or phone number. If only I could text her. Should I try 1-800-HEAVEN?
She may not mind, you know. Maybe she has thought of something new to say. Maybe she says “Heavenly,” or “Out of This World.” Maybe she says “Divine.”
And by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask. How are you?
I hope you’re… Super Dang Good.