Who Will Be Your Six?

There’s a well-known book called The Five People You Meet in Heaven, a story that beautifully imagines how the people who quietly changed your life might be waiting to greet you on the other side. But lately, I’ve been thinking about something a bit more grounded—something heavy, literally and emotionally: Who will be your six?

I’m talking about the six people who will carry you to your final place of rest. Your pallbearers. The ones who will shoulder the weight of your life, of your absence, and of the closing chapter you leave behind.

I’ll be honest—I don’t know all six of mine.

Had you asked me when I was 20, I could’ve rattled off names without hesitation. College friends. Work besties. Cousins. A list full of laughter, inside jokes, and shared moments that felt like forever. At 30, the list would’ve shifted, but still—six people? Easy. Solid. No doubt. But now, years later, I sat with this question and found myself staring into the quiet.

Only two names came to mind.

Two.

And that realization hit like a cold wind through a cracked door. Not because I’m unpopular or unloved—but because time changes things. People drift. Life moves on. Some of those names from before are no longer in the picture. Others are still around, but the closeness faded without ceremony. Some have passed. Some changed. And truthfully, so did I.

We often assume we’ll always have “our people”—but life doesn’t work like a sitcom with a permanent cast. People come into your life for a season, a reason, or a lifetime… but not always for the end.

It made me wonder—who shows up when you’re not at your best? Who answers the late-night calls? Who sees your scars and still chooses you? Who brings comfort without needing a spotlight?

I think the question of “Who will carry you?” isn’t just about the funeral. It’s about now. Who carries you through heartbreak? Through loss? Through the mess? Who helps you get back up when you can’t find your strength? If you’re lucky, those are the same people who’ll carry your casket someday.

And if you don’t have all six yet, that’s okay. Maybe you’re still building that circle. Or maybe the people meant to be there haven’t arrived yet. But the question is worth sitting with.

Because it’s not just about who will carry you—it’s also about who you’re choosing to carry.

Whose six are you a part of?

We all want to matter. We all want to be remembered. But perhaps, more importantly, we want to be held—in life and in death.

So, I leave you with this reflection:

Think about your six.

Call the ones you already know.

Reach out to the ones you’ve let drift.

And be the person someone else might count in their quiet list of names.

Because one day, when the story of your life is done, it won’t be your titles or your bank account that gets the honor of carrying you. It’ll be hearts.

And hopefully, hands that loved you well.