I don’t know when Willie Nelson will sing his final song. One that I just heard makes me think it won’t be long.

Willie was born April 29, 1933. He’s had a remarkable career and at 92 is still touring the country in his bus. He shuffles slowly across stages now then takes a seat to perform. The strong, clear voice of earlier days has lost its luster. That’s all to be expected, I suppose, but a song I heard in early March left me wondering if he was saying goodbye.

The red-headed stranger has brought us some melancholy classics, like “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” and “Ain’t it Funny How Time Slips Away.” But it seemed a personal plea as I listened to him singing “Keep Me In Your Heart.” 

Willie’s wrinkled whisper caused me to question why he would release this late-in-life recording. I figured maybe he wanted to let folks know he’s getting close to leaving the stage.    

Thousands of songs have been written by Willie, so I thought this was probably another one. I found out later it was by Warren Devon, a rock singer and songwriter who died in 2003. Devon wrote and recorded it after being told he was dying. That helps explain its most touching line, “Keep me in your heart for a while.” 

Death has been called the great equalizer, an acknowledgment that whatever we accumulate can’t be taken with us. It’s been aptly stated, “You never see a U-Haul behind a hearse.” The point is valid, although I can testify to an exception.

It was probably ten or more years ago. I was going through Pinehurst and stopped where Fullington Avenue intersects with US Highway 41. A hearse passed by going south and right behind it was a U-Haul Truck. The timing may have been an amusing coincidence, but my guess was they were moving furniture, family heirlooms perhaps. That scene came to mind as I pondered Devon’s compelling line.

A few days after I first heard “Keep Me in Your Heart” some men from our church cleaned up an abandoned cemetery. It had been out of view for ages and only has four graves with markers. In the 1800s it was the site of Mt. Bezor, a Baptist congregation that was later renamed Providence and relocated to Vienna as First Baptist Church.

James Stallings Beale was a member of that early congregation. Mr. Beale donated land for First Baptist as well as for our Methodist neighbors. He also gave $150 towards the new church building and collected funds from others. Most contributed small amounts. One of my ancestors, Rev. Larkin Joiner, gave a single dollar and had lots of company.

Mr. Beale’s granite monument is 15 feet tall. I’d love to know what it cost, where it came from, and how they managed to transport it to the cemetery in 1858. It’s very impressive, yet for decades was hidden by the bushes, trees, and vines that claim untended places. It reminded me of how easily people, even prominent ones, can be forgotten. And it caused me to once again reflect on that lovely, somber line.

I don’t know if Willie Nelson was saying goodbye or not. It could be that he felt others needed to hear that tender appeal. Warren Devon expressed what most of us hope for but rarely put into words. Sometimes we don’t know how. Or we wait too long and time slips away.

Here’s what I do know. It’s not monuments that really matter or how full the U-Haul may be. What we hope for, I believe, is to be warmly remembered after our final song. So I’ll close with a borrowed plea that says it rather perfectly. “Keep me in your heart for a while.”