Jon and I have been working on our wills. There is nothing that will depress you faster than writing letters to your children that they are only to open if you and your spouse meet your end in an untimely demise. What letter could ever impart all the wisdom and advice they’ll need? The chances are these letters will never be opened. But if by some chance Jon and I should meet our maker together, what thoughts will help my children deal with the aftershock? Should I joke around. Don’t ever give your contact information to an Nigerian prince who e-mails you. Should I go for tough love? Listen, crap happens to everybody, get up and get moving. Should I go all mushy? We’ll always be there for you if you need us. It’s not that hard for me to think about dying. I don’t mind the idea of leaving behind all the messiness of this life for one of peace. But I hate to think of my children hurt and me not there to hug them. It’s one of those things though that as a responsible parent you have to get done. And expect even a letter filled with the worst tripe would provide more comfort than no letter at all. Maybe I’ll lead with, “Don’t ever forget we love you more than you can ever imagine.”
Writing out Wills
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