Good Stuff

We’re all going to die, and I plan to reach from the grave to comfort my loved ones.

Now that we’ve gotten that not-so-pleasant visual out of the way, think about someone you’ve lost. As much as we try to hold on to memories, time has a way of making them slip through our fingers. We find ourselves regretting the questions we never asked, and when grief wraps its long, bony fingers around our throats, we all too often struggle to find comfort. If only we had one more moment — what would we ask? What would we say? It may seem morbid, but I feel an urgency to take nothing important with me when I leave this Wonderful World.

I have two sons. My eldest, who has Down Syndrome, will never read the words I share here on my Go To The Grass (GTTG) platform. His memories of me will be tied to our shared life — and that will have to be enough. Believe me, I’m doing my level best to ensure he’ll never stop feeling my love, even and especially in my absence.

I’ve written all my life, so writing is a natural way to express myself. Everything I share here is not only my attempt to bring positivity to the world, but my articles are ultimately love letters to my youngest son, who will one day say goodbye to me. Although we’re very close, I know that life will march on, and the busyness of it all will likely blur his memories. He may forget the stories I verbally shared, but my writings will remind him that:

1.      I believe Jesus is the answer to everything.

2.      We have to laugh at ourselves more than we laugh at others.

3.      I find God (the positive) in EVERY situation.

4.    I spend an exorbitant amount of time in prayer for my family, friends, and strangers because I know PRAYER WORKS.

5.      I am not even a little afraid of what’s on the other side of this life.

And while I have dumped ink vessels in journals, I highly doubt he’ll have the bandwidth to sift through all of THAT! So, the GTTG articles are the HIGHLIGHTS—the important stuff that just might get him through the night when I’m no longer here to wrap my arms around him.

What about you? What are your highlights, and where are they stored? Will they go to the grave with you, or have you found a way to ensure your loved ones KNOW what matters to you? What you believe in? How you survive your struggles? What do you want to live forever?

The clock is ticking. I suggest you write, film, or find another way to preserve your “love letters” now.

Let’s all commit to leaving physical proof of life’s “Good Stuff.”