What will they say?

Pearl white clouds against a deep azure sky, the golden remnants of day begin to fade as the moon and stars conspire to converse with the clouds of the Suns comings and goings.

I wrote that line/poem/verse over twenty years ago after attending a funeral. I had forgotten it until I woke up early today to watch Nelson Mandela be laid to rest.  I realized a Sun had set, and all that was left was the golden remnants of freedom against the deep backdrop of South Africa.  I saw over one hundred heads of state there to converse with those who will remain in South Africa of the great heights this man had achieved.  Talk about your stars.  

What will the stars at my funeral speak about? What stars will even show up? It doesn't matter. What matters is what will the people I leave behind say about me in the months after I am gone. What will they think of me in the years after I have left? What will my name mean to those who hear it in the next century? 

I pray that I will do enough to matter to someone. I pray that I can be a portion of what Mr. Mandela was. Thank you for the light you shined in your day, the heat you brought to a cold land, the shade you cast on an unforgiving world. May we talk about that day for eternity!