Day 239 of The 365 Day Experiment. If I Were To Go.

My kids are getting ready for bed, and I'm eagerly awaiting the opportunity to kiss them goodnight so I can plunk my butt down on the couch and call my girlfriend.  After a brief set of texts back and forth moments ago coordinating when we could speak tomorrow, I learned she's off to a funeral of one of her friends tomorrow.  So sad.  And it got me thinking. 

Death has been on my mind all afternoon.  An old high school friend who lost his wife several months back shared a photo montage earlier today of his beautiful wife.  He posted "This almost gutted me."  And to watch it, though I did not know her, it almost gutted me as well.  To see a life cut short - especially one of a young mother of two girls - breaks my heart in a thousand pieces.  That could be me. 

That could be any of us.   While I am healthy, I could be hit by a bus tomorrow crossing Boylston Street.  It is why I am vigilant about letting my children know how much I love them.  It is why I have notes stored away for them in my tiny safe along with a small piece of jewelry for each, just in case.  They will always have the love of their father.  But if I go, they will be losing a core part of who they are becoming. 

So unlike helicopter parents who involve themselves in every detail of their children's lives, I am trying to strike a delicate balance.  I am attempting to fill my daughters' lives with memories and direction, and of guidance and soul.  

In addition to teaching them right and wrong, I'm teaching them it's okay to fail, and to learn from those mistakes.  I've been attempting to teach them about love and loss.  And being brave, and taking risks.  About being there for one another, and being reliant on one's self, too.  They need to problem solve for themselves, and think through decisions before asking for help.  Most of all, I want them to know they can always count on me, but they need to learn to become independent as well.  

Of course, I have no clue if I am doing any of this right.  Like all parents, we do the best we can do, and we all make it up as we go along.  One thing is for sure, however. My daughters have no doubt that they are loved and cherished.  And I am here for them in every way in their most formative years.  However, if something should happen to me, I'd like to think I've set them up survive - and thrive - pretty well.  

I even let them know how to find me in those notes.