How will you feel if your son dies tomorrow?

 It's not like he's going to grown up tomorrow; he's eleven. There will be more Saturdays.  It's not like I'm gonna die tomorrow. Seriously, what are the odds you will die tomorrow? About 1 in 2,000 or about .05 percent if you're a 20 year old woman, and I am not. There's always time to spend with your son.  It doesn't have to be today.

Today is a good day to change. I lived too much of my days as a dad of young boys putting off to tomorrow time better meant for them. So you don't think I'm being hard on myself, do know that I know I was a good dad. Could have been better, but I wasn't. There are no do-overs so I'm sharing this observation just in case it might be read by one dad who gives the day to his son right now, instead of thinking there is a tomorrow.

We know we are not promised tomorrow. We know we are mortal human beings dependent on a heart beating its next beat. I thought I would live a long life. Of course the boys will grow up, go to school, get married, have children.  I expected I will be there for them until, well at least 60. There is time.

Maybe if I had this observation back then I might have done a few things differently. Here it is: Instead of thinking, "How would my sons feel if I were to die tomorrow? Have I done enough for them? Have I been the dad they needed me to be?" I wonder what choices would have been made  had  I pondered a thought we parents never want to think. "How would I feel if my son were to die tomorrow?"

If I die, I'm gone. My sons would have suffered their pain. They would have each other and their mother. I would feel nothing. They would go to school, get married, have children and remember more or less life with dad.  They would feel their feelings and experience happiness, sadness, joy, fear, gratitude. They would feel as they are supposed to feel. And they'd have each other. They would be OK.  I would have no feelings.

This is a note from my son Aaron in 2001 when he was 11 or 12. I had forever to spend with him experiencing life. Forever was three years and nine months. I live with feeling feelings. His brother does not have his brother. And that hurts. I have things to tell my son and no way to reach him. These feelings hurt. For 13 years they've hurt.

 Instead of making choices like your life will never end, ask yourself, "How will I feel about my choices if my son were to die tomorrow?"  When you choose your son, and I believe you will, be present. Give him all of  your attention. Whatever it is you chose not to do, let it go. I promise you if you're here and your son is gone forever, you will have a little peace where there would be pain, and your son will have what he needs today---you.

P.S. I will live with choices I made placing myself first and always be grateful for the times I did not put off what needed to be said or done today. On my last day with my son, I told him everything I admired about him, what I forgave him for, where I was wrong about him, how inspired I was by him, and most of all, I made the amends I needed to make to my son.