My mother-in-law passed away last night. She was a very special person. Why? Because she made everyone around her feel special. She always had a beautifully positive outlook on life and life’s experiences. I remember the first time I met her and how welcome she made me feel.

Anyway, her death brought to mind Benjamin Franklin’s last days. He was the wisest and oldest of the Nation’s Founding Fathers, almost by a whole generation.

Early in April, 1790, Franklin complained of a pain in his chest which endured for at least 10 agonizing days. Then it subsided just enough to let Sally, his daughter, make his bed fresh for his so that he might “die in a decent manner.” After making up the bed, Sally declared that she was praying that Ben would get well and live for many more years. Franklin quietly responded: “I hope not!”

Just a few hours later an abscess in his lungs burst, which made it more difficult for him to breathe. At 11 o’clock in the evening, April 17, 1790, at the age of 84, Ben passed quietly into history.

I believe, like my mother-in-law, he made all those around him feel better about themselves. He was a gifted diplomat and leader. The largest crowd ever assembled then in America, some 20,000 mourners, came to pay tribute to their beloved Ben Franklin—printer, editor, publisher, inventor, civic leader, Governor, statesman, Founding Father of a new nation.

As a young man, Benjamin Franklin had prepared an epitaph for himself. Although it doesn’t appear on his gravestone, it bears some inspiring words as a testament of his beliefs:

The body of
B. Franklin, Printer
(like the cover of an old book,
Its contents torn out
And stripped of its lettering and guilding
Lies here, food for worms.
But the work shall not be lost;
For it will (as he believed) appear once more
In a new and more elegant edition,
Revised and corrected
By the Author.