grandpa

It’s been a year since my grandpa has passed. He had all of his wits about him when he left the earth, it's just his body that failed him. I hope that’s what happens to me when I decide to go and be with the stars. Thoughts fully intact, business as usual, but everywhere else is done for. A life well-lived, crow's feet so long it’s surprising I don’t have feathers, sun spots covering me head to toe, laugh lines that create a map on my cheeks, altogether ready to be taken away to the rest of the world. That way, I won’t know I’m dying, it’ll just be my time. One last “Goodbye, I love you” to all, and then a life of eternity with the wind that rustles the leaves on the trees, the waves that lap at the shores of the lakes I love, and the laughter that surrounds a family dinner in the middle of a cold, bitter winter.

I believe that when we die we don’t necessarily go to heaven, hell, or any other place, but we stick around with our family and our family’s family to see they live happily and are loved. We stay in the miracle moments with them — moments that just seem a little too coincidentally perfect to have happened, yet they still do. Like being a few minutes late to work and missing an accident on the road where you would have been, or waking up mere moments before your house sets ablaze. The moments where you know someone, somewhere is rooting for you, looking out for you, and you just don’t know how it happened. We all become silent protectors, then nothing more than a memory of the past.

I wonder if the theory of many worlds is true, or if there really is a God, or what religion got it right. The stark reality of it all is that there probably is no religion and that there is nothingness beyond the light of life that we all live by, but we’re all too scared to admit it. Life is meant to be lived, shared, and enjoyed; life is meant to be an experience, a journey, the destination being only your definition of happiness. You cannot take money to the grave, you cannot take your riches, a house, a car, a boat, or any material possessions to the grave, but if you live life well enough, and invest in those around you, hear their stories, make them feel like they matter, love them fiercely, and allow them to exist without change, you’ll have plenty of visitors when you take your final bow.

Live with tenacity. Light the fire of your happiness and love and let it set the rest of the world ablaze, turning life’s most precious moments into embers of memory, able to be stoked until the end of time. Make others — your friends, your family, your parents, your lovers, anyone and everyone in your circle of life — know that they matter. That they are safe with you. That they are loved. Call them, text them, write them letters, send them postcards, shower them with gifts, cook them a delicious meal, play games with them, sit with them, let them cry on your shoulder, and let others exist with you just for a moment. Be silent with one another, and let the winds of the world do the speaking. Whatever you do, make sure when the curtain comes down, that your life’s play gets a standing ovation as the lights fade off into the distance.