A Question from Scarlett
Last weekend, after all the Easter events had settled down, Scarlett asked me something that warranted a deeper discussion:
“Dad, are you afraid to die? I don’t want to die.”
It’s a big question. One I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about over the years, as I imagine most people do once they hit a certain age. I wasn’t quite ready to unpack everything for her in that moment, she is only eight after all. But one day, when she’s ready, maybe reading this will help her understand where I stand. Something for us to have a deeper discussion on in the meantime.
This Is the Day
I try to live in the moment. I’m decent at planning ahead, but I’ve found real peace in trying to “win” today.
That’s why my favorite Bible verse will always be:
“This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” — Psalm 118:24
There’s another quote I love that says, “Yesterday is the past, tomorrow is the future, and today is a present.”
When I truly live in the moment, I feel less regret, more gratitude, and a deeper satisfaction in what I’ve been given. Worrying about a future I can’t control doesn’t serve me. But being fully present today, that’s where I find joy and satisfaction.
Why I Always Say “I Love You”
Every time I drop my kids off at school or tuck them in at night, I tell them I love them. Every time.
I told Scarlett that it’s not just for her, it's also for me. If something ever happened to me, I’d want her to remember our last moment as a loving one. And if something happened to her, I’d want my last words to be “I love you,” not something said in frustration or haste.
We can’t control what happens. But we can choose how we part.
What My Parents Taught Me About Legacy
Some years ago, my mom told me something I’ll never forget.
She said the days my brother and I graduated from college were the proudest of her and my dad’s lives. Not our weddings. Not us moving out. That moment, knowing we were educated and ready for the world, that’s when she felt fulfilled.
I’ve always admired how clear their goal was: raise their kids to be ready for life.
Now, as a parent myself, I get it.
The day I first held Scarlett in my arms, everything changed. Life wasn’t about me anymore. It was about pouring into that little human and eventually her brother as well, giving them everything I could to help them become strong, kind, capable people. That mission drives me every day. And the thought of failing at that? That’s the one thing I am afraid of.
A Purpose Beyond Ourselves
If you strip things down to biology, the most basic purpose of any life form is to reproduce—to ensure the survival of the species. But let’s not get sentimental just yet. Let’s talk about the cold, hard logic.
Our bodies are wired to push the human race forward. It’s in our DNA. The urge to love, to build community, to protect our young, it’s encoded in our genes, part of nature’s way of making sure we don’t disappear. When you peel back the layers of emotion, what’s left is this: you’re either contributing for a future or you’re not.
I believe we’re each meant to pour into the next generation. To nurture, teach, and prepare them to carry things forward. When we choose not to do that, then I see that as selfish and the actions of a narcissist. You’re making life only about yourself and your wants. A cop-out. Sorry, not sorry.
If everyone in the past acted this way, then we wouldn't be here today. And if we act like that now, then there is no future. We, the collective we, will never be any more than a temporary, tiny blue dot in the existence of the universe.
So, Am I Afraid to Die?
No. I’m not.
I want to use my time here, however long I get, to move things forward in whatever way I can. To love my family. To encourage people. To build things that matter.
I know I can’t control the future. But I can control how I show up each day. And when my time comes, whether that’s the beginning of something new or just the end, I’ll go with peace.
Because I’ll know I gave it everything I had. And if that’s all there is, well… I’ll have earned the rest.
Great stuff, brother.