Letter To Me After I Die


Just in case either of them forget to do it, I decided to compose a letter one of my daughters should send to me after I die.

Dear Daddy, it’s amazing to be in the year 2040.

For one thing, you’re dead.

I bet it’s really great for you to be dead.

All of your worries and annoyances are over.

No more having to wake up to go the bathroom in the middle of the night! You hated that!

No more whining that you have nothing to write about.

I bet you have PLENTY to write about now.

People were sad for a tiny second but then they went on without you. Because eventually it will be our turn.

We remember you but we mostly focus on our day to day lives and the lives of our own children.

You had your chance!

Oh, sometimes I feel a little stuck in my life. Like I don’t know which direction I should go next.

If you were here you could tell me how to get unstuck. But since you aren’t, I’m just going to imagine what you would say.

You would tell me to take a step back. To build the foundation. Once you build a solid foundation, you can then build whatever house you want.

Blah blah blah.

Actually, that’s a bit rude. Maybe you wouldn’t say “blah”. But you would say the other stuff.

You would ask me if I were focusing on my:

– physical health (yes)

– emotional (sometimes – but there’s that one married guy who flirts with me and sometimes I flirt back.)

– mental (I try to write down ideas every day but sometimes I’m too busy!)

– spiritual (I try to be grateful whenever I can. I try to surrender to the beautiful abundance around me. But also I get angry sometimes. like why does Dave no longer talk to me? What did I do to him? And I apologized for that anyway? Doesn’t that count?)

You would say, “it has to rain in order for the garden to bloom”.

But I don’t know. You failed sometimes and you weren’t happy about it. Did you really view “failure” as “rain”. Or was that BS? When it’s happening it’s hard to feel like it’s just rain.

But I do want the garden to bloom.

You would say, “the world has bad things but first you have to open up the window into your own dark room so the light can come in. Then clean you room!”

Or something like that. I don’t know. Does that mean anything?

Ok, I will practice being grateful. I’m grateful for my own kids. I hope you were grateful for us even though you wrote posts about wanting to abort us. I’m grateful that this moment I can take a deep breath. Nothing can stop me. This moment nothing can stop me.

I’m grateful you once told me this:

Trust the process. Then make sure you truly Desire what you want. Else you won’t care.

Then DO with Earnestness. Then Eagerness. Then if I simply trust the process, I get everything I want.

But I don’t need anything, Daddy.

I am alive and you are dead.

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image – Duncan Harris