Just in case I die

I'm young, I don't have much material worth, and I don't have any kids, so I never really thought about what should happen with the "stuff" I have should I die. My house has no sentimental value, so you can leave everything in it and burn it for all I care. As of today, I have $9.94 in my savings and $5.23 in my checking account. This might be enough for my family to have some Starbucks on me! Enjoy!

No one really likes my dog, but I love her, so if no one wants to take her, please make sure she ends up with a loving and patient family. She would happiest if she had lots of land to run around on all day long.

Probably the one thing you'll want to salvage from my bookcases is my journals. I believe there are 10 journals upstairs, and there might be more in the basement. I'm going to warn you now that some of the stuff you read could be shocking to you. But maybe I don't hide as much as I think I do.

Since grieving through visitations and funerals is not my way of grieving, I would rather you didn't do that. But if that helps my family with their grieving, then by all means, drain my blood, fill my body with embalming fluid, sew my eyes and my mouth shut, layer my face and hands in makeup, lay me in a box, and weep over my "body." Then please cremate my body. I know it will be hard to let go of the ashes, but please spread some over Lake Michigan by the beach at Frankfort. I have some wonderful memories of our time there as a family as well as the time I spent with God by the water (see journal entries from July 17, 2008-July 20, 2008). Then contact Andrew and go to deer camp and spread some ashes there. I found so much peace there. As you know, peace is something that was hard for me to come by. I would have you spread some in the pool in our backyard in Valpo, but that would be weird. I think it is pretty obvious that home was a haven for me. I also had some defining moments with God back there (see blog entry from September 2, 2008). Once the ashes are gone, let that be it. Move on. Throw away everything. Don't keep my blankey, don't save my body spray so that you can smell it when you miss me, throw my clothes away or burn them, don't leave everything just as I left it. Clean it up, sweep it out (unfortunately, if I die at the end of a busy week, there will be a lot of cleaning to do. Sorry about that. It's on the list for tomorrow). Don't torture yourself with the stuff that reminds you of me.

I hope I made a good impression on earth. I hope that I wasn't mean to you or that I blew you off or didn't notice you when I should have. I hope that I left you feeling special. I hope that I didn't get in the way of God blessing your life through me. Please know that when I told you I love you, I really meant it. Even if I told you that and I didn't know you very well, I still REALLY meant it. God has filled my heart with love for just about everyone.

If I die before Monday, tell my date I was really looking forward to talking to him. A bunch of us, including him, had a great conversation on Tuesday that filled both of our hearts with such joy and purpose that we wanted to continue sharing our passion for God with each other.

Tell my coworkers that I loved them all. Laura and Cathy were like sisters to me. We all took turns having "weepy" days, and we were always there for each other. They especially were there for me (I think I had a "few" more weepy days than either of them. Tell them I'm sorry I was such high maintenence sometimes). Other than that, I already told them this week that I love them. Again, I really meant it.

I had a special place in my heart for Mary. Make sure she knows that I loved her. I don't think enough people love her.

Tell Steve I love him too (I think I already told him, but I just want to make sure he knows that). We were very different spirits. I was afraid of him at first because he seemed so dark, but we ended up being great friends. I appreciated his honesty and even his cynisism (sp?). If I don't finish the book he loaned me before I die, make sure he gets it back. It was The Stranger. I think it's in my car.

Thank Jim Miar for making me laugh and understanding me. I already got to tell him goodbye this week.

Tell Dickie and Meghan I loved them too. Thank them for the great memories of BBQ and Rock Band.

(Wow...I'm beginning to understand how acceptance speeches get so long.... I know this might be boring, but it's really important).

Make sure my closest friends--Kristin, Rachel, Annie, Elisa, Abby, Kate, Heather, Dianne, and Robin--know that they gave me hope and confidence.

Make sure my high-schoolers know I loved them all very much. They taught me a lot about myself. Make sure they are comforted. I want them all to have a firm grasp of who they are in Christ. Tell them it's ok to mourn my death, but please make sure they don't add it to their list of bad things that happened in their life. There is a wealth of good to drink up from this one bad thing.

I've already made peace with Andrew, JR, and Aaron. In case they didn't believe me, let them know that I am left with no more broken pieces; that I became a better, stronger person through them.

If people tell you that the reason I'm gone is because God wanted me with him, don't believe it. Life belongs to God, eternal life was mine to choose, and death belongs to the devil. Hate him for death. Love God for the life I found in Him.

If I die young, don't be too sad about that. I feel like my life is purposeful. My living has been intentional. I don't have any regrets. I am happy.