Why Wait?

When I die

I want you to climb the highest mountain you see.

As you set your ice axe upon the peak and plant your flag, think:

he should have done this.

When I die

I want you to call my mom each day

tell her how magical she is.

I want you to

make her smile.

And when you feel her happiness, you shall think:

He should have done this.

When I die

I want you to build a company

write a book

fly a plane, do loop de loops

play outside in the summer

laugh

as loud as you can

for no reason.

I want you to call every woman I’ve ever been with

and thank her for loving me

in that beautiful special way that only women can.

I want you to hold a new love close

feeling

her breath on your neck

eyelashes on your cheek

soft murmurs

and think

he should be doing this.

When I die

I want you to come to my funeral with a pickaxe

rip apart the coffin

pull me out

shake me awake

and point out life

all….

the…

beautiful….

fantastic….

possibilities

and say: “Go!  Do this.”

(I wrote this over two years ago, shortly after making a vow that changed my life.   Amazing the difference a simple commitment makes over time.  Still, a damn nice reminder…)