Why Write Now?

photo credit: Julie Edgley via photopin cc

Dear future grandkids,

No, I'm not dying.  Or rather I'm unaware of any immanent demise or debilitating illness that would make me be unable to address you in person.  And frankly given that my children, your future parents, haven't even finished high school I hope it is a long time before you make an appearance.

But even though I hope to live a long and healthy life and have years and years to spend with you telling you all the family stories and passing along the admittedly limited wisdom God gave me, I don't want to wait just because you aren't here yet.

Almost a year ago now my father died.  I was blessed enough to be able to spend a lot of time with him in the final year.  I had time to ask those questions I had always wanted to ask.  I had time to hear those stories of his childhood and young adult years that he wanted to share.  I had the gift of knowing that death was coming and I had time to prepare and say goodbye.

But it wasn't enough time.

Often I find myself thinking of Dad and wishing I could ask him another question.  There are still so many stories I never heard, advise I can no longer seek out.

So my letters to you, my future hypothetical grandchildren (and great grandchildren, and great, great, and so on), and to anyone else who cares to read.