Holding

As I die will I recall at all the last thing I'd held unto, a hammer, a paint brush, a steering wheel, a glass of cool smooth whiskey, or a pen? Who ever truly knows the thoughts of any one else? Still, somehow I can not help wondering, somehow it does matter. Perhaps, the very last thing held is the only thing ever held that ever made a difference at all; The love in the human heart, held for those we leave behind, and hold onto in the endless hope of holding them (and being held by them) once again, forever. Faith, hope, love. Three things well worth holding onto.