Leave a mark

As I sit here on this quiet Sunday morning, with a heating blanket on my lap and my puppy curled at my feet, my thoughts are anything but quiet. Yesterday was spent with friends, watching our college football team lose a heartbreaking game, and with it, our undefeated season and our championship play-off hopes. But that isn't what has me in tears this morning.

While talking on the phone to my mom, something I do every morning, she mentioned a country singer duo by the name of Joey + Rory. She had seen a video and learned of Joey's fight with cancer. Her terminal, end-of-life, fight with cancer. The video she saw was titled "When I'm Gone" and made in 2012 - before Joey's cancer diagnosis. This video describes a wife's attempt to comfort her husband after she's gone. I've seen it. And it's heartbreaking how closely it models the couple's fight right now.

But even that isn't what has me in tears. Rory, Joey's husband, writes a blog. He puts his family's trials, tribulations, and triumphs out there for the world to see. And right now, there are a lot of trials. Joey is receiving end-of-life hospice care. She is spending time with her loved ones; precious time that is oh so fleeting. And she is doing it with a smile. And Rory, although I'm sure there are tears, is blogging it with a smile. He's sharing these last moments of Joey's life with the world, in the hopes that they resonate with someone.

Boy did they resonate with me.

I don't think I'm dying. What I mean is, I have nothing to indicate that I'm ill. I have no plans to go anytime soon. But neither did Joey. I don't think most people plan for that sort of thing. But now it has me thinking.

If something happened to me, how would my loved ones know what they mean to me? Sure, I tell them. Everyday, in fact. Multiple times a day. But I want them to have more than that. When my dad passed away in 2012, I didn't get to say goodbye. We knew he was sick - he spent a week in the hospital. But we didn't know it was time for goodbye. And I missed out on those final words.

For three and a half years, that has stuck with me. My dad was already gone by the time I got to the hospital. My goodbyes were said to a lifeless body. It's hard to not regret that. I know my dad loved me. I have no doubts about that. But what I do have doubts about is how often I told him I loved him. My dad and I had our fair share of issues. I loved him. Man, did I love him. But we fought. We argued. We were both stubborn and thick-headed as a brick, and we often butted those heads together.

When I go, I want to leave behind a legacy. I imagine most of us do. I want there to be no doubt that I loved with all that I had. So on this cold and quiet Sunday, I'm making a vow to myself:

Leave no doubt with the ones you love about how you feel. Love more, fight less, and always, always say the words. 

Those words have power. They leave a mark. Leave your mark behind.


Live from Okie Land,

E