I read this story and wanted to share it with you:
There was a woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. As she was getting her things in order, she asked her pastor to come to her house so they could discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. When he arrived, she told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, which Scriptures she would like read, and which outfit she wanted to be buried in along with her favorite Bible.
Everything was in order, and the pastor was preparing to leave when the woman suddenly remembered something very important to her. "There's one more thing!" she said excitedly.
"What's that?" asked the pastor.
"This is very important," the woman said. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The pastor stood looking at the woman, not knowing quite what to say.
"That surprises you, doesn't it?" the woman asked.
"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the pastor.
The woman explained. "In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitable lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' That was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming, like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. So I just want people to see me in my casket with a fork in my hand, and I want them to wonder about it. And I want you to tell them: 'Keep your fork - the best is yet to come.'"
The pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the woman. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death.
~Taken from "Espresso for a Woman's Spirit: Encouraging Stories of Hope and Humor" p. 205