What did Dad leave me?
“Live a life as a monument to your soul.”
One day my Dad was and here and then he was gone. I'm not here to pontificate on this loss. This type of loss is universal. Instead, I'm here to discuss my anger - the anger I felt when I foraged my father's room searching for what he left me and painstaking realizing that he left this earth and me - absolutely nothing. At this point, you probably think I'm cold-hearted and selfish. Perhaps I am. But you see - I'm not talking about money. My Dad was not a wealthy man and never was. Rather, he was smart, wise, funny, and philosophical. So, where was the letter to me with some words that I could cleave onto in my grief? Where was the ring or the souvenir that I keep in my pocket to remind me of him? Where was his apology for leaving me so young? I was mad. But then, a month or so after he passed, the song that he told me to listen to when I was going through some dark times came on -
And the words he lived by: Max Ehrmann's, Desiderata popped up on my browser
And then, while sipping my tea in the quiet of my room, Sunday Morning, his favorite show, came on TV.
And then it hit me. He passed everything to me while he was alive - a kind heart, a deep appreciation for humanity, a love of life, an insatiable curiosity, and the willingness to think and feel deeply. Thanks Dad. Unfortunately, I still wish I had more. I'd love to see childhood photos, a list of favorite books, songs, movies, and quotes. Oh, and mostly - I'd give anything to hear my Dad's voice again.
This wish is not only for me. It's for my father's grandchildren and his first great-grandchild born this past February. So, that's why there's Me Chronicled and My Peeps, a Division of Me Chronicled. We are here to help you sort out and share the meaning of your life. We help safely and beautifully showcase what's important to you. But, please understand - I'm not here to sell you on anything!
I'm only here to gently remind you - We are all going to die. It's inevitable. So, what are you leaving behind? How will your children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren know a little of your soul and spirit when you're no longer around? Just think about it.
With Love, Andrea