“When I die”

LISA B. ADAMS

When I die don’t think you’ve lost me.

I’ll be right there with you, living on in the memories we have made.

When I die don’t say I “fought a battle.” Or “lost a battle.” Or “succumbed.”

Don’t make it sound like I didn’t try hard enough, or have the right attitude, or that I simply gave up.

When I die don’t say I “passed.”

That sounds like I walked by you in the corridor at school.

When I die tell the world what happened.

Plain and simple.

No euphemisms, no flowery language, no metaphors.

Instead, remember me and let my words live on.

Tell stories of something good I did.

Give my children a kind word. Let them know what they meant to me. That I would have stayed forever if I could.

Don’t try to comfort my children by telling them I’m an angel watching over them from heaven or that I’m in a better place:

There is no better place to me than being here with them.

They have learned about grief and they will learn more.

That is part of it all.

When I die someday just tell the truth:

I lived, I died.

The end.