Instructions to Be Followed upon My Death

I've been thinking about death lately. Not in a dark, depressing way. I'm fine. I could work out more, eat better and drink a little less, but for the most part life is great, busy and wonderful. I'm grateful every morning that I wake up to find my son tapping me on the forehead and asking me to turn on Micky Mouse. But still, death has been on my mind. I've lost friends over the last few years. Some had a chance to say goodbye, others didn't. When I was younger I felt immortal. Not so much anymore.

I don't know when my time to go is coming, so I figured I would put this out there. Here are some instructions to be followed upon my death...

Let's start with the simple stuff.

Stevie, please take the useful parts of me and immediately give them to someone else. I don't want them. Take the eyes that watched our kids come into this world and give them to someone else so they can watch their kids refuse to eat salad from across their dinner table. Take the heart that you listened to when you laid your head on my chest and bury its beat in someone else's... not in the ground. Take my skin and arms and legs and guts. Take everything else and offer it up to the world. Give back a little of what it has given me. We don't get to keep anything in this world. It is all borrowed.

Next, please tell the kids to not be afraid to cry, ever. I spent too much of my life afraid to cry. Once I realized that crying didn't make me any less of a "man" and actually made me more of a human, things became remarkably easier. So be sad and vulnerable and weak when you need to. Rely on our family and friends. Their love for you and I will carry you guys through this. You never have to walk alone.

Set up a funeral, but not a big fancy (expensive) affair. Just a room with some chairs, perhaps an ice bucket of beer in the back and couple bottles of good whiskey. I don't need an Irish Wake, but some folks may need a drink. The hard part comes next.

Once everyone is sitting down and had a few drinks, have someone read this:

John didn't really believe in a God. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was right. If he was wrong, he knows that now and he'll be dealing with it in his own way. If you knew John, you know that he was pretty good at talking himself out of awkward situations. He'll be OK. Most funerals John attended in his life focused on a message that the person who had died would be waiting in heaven for their friends and family. Since that isn't what John believed, he wanted to take this opportunity to write his own message to all of you. Also, he was kind of full of himself like that, so he respectfully asks that you humor him this one last time. Here's his goodbye message:

Hey everyone. Thanks for coming. Sorry I died. I'm sure it's really hard - probably extra really hard for some of you. Maybe just kind of sad for others. However you are dealing with dead me is the exact right way to be dealing with dead me. You be you. I hope I had the chance to say goodbye to some of you. If this happened quick, perhaps I didn't. If I have lived my life in a good way, I would hope that the need for me to say goodbye would be small. I would hope you already know exactly how much you meant to me, and how much you enriched my life because I would have told you over and over again. That said, if you are a random person that knew me in high school and you just showed up because you saw my obituary, I probably never got around to telling you how much I appreciated and loved you, but I did random person I haven't seen since high school. I really did. Probably not as much as I loved my wife and my kids, but you understand that would be silly.

Stevie, Captain, Duchess. (Whoever is reading this, please use my kids real names and not their silly internet names.) I'm sure this is much worse for you than it is for me, because I am dead. I want you to know that you are the very best parts of me. You are everything I ever wanted in life, and every day with you was the best day I ever had.

Since I don't really believe in an afterlife, my consciousness was snubbed out as soon as my brain was depleted of oxygen. That means the alive me is gone. I'm not waiting for you in the clouds or on another celestial planet. I won't be writing any more words. You don't have to listen to me sing anymore. The creative me, the part with autonomy and free will is gone... unless I am wrong.

Tell you what. If I am wrong and I can find a way through space and time to be a ghost in the room with you right now, I will turn the lights off and on... now.

OK. One of three things just happened. A the lights did not turn on and off. B the lights did turn on and off and I have made a horrible mistake and am now doomed to a purgatory like hell, wandering the mortal plane as a disconnected spirit for all eternity, or C someone, probably your uncle, is messing with everyone and turned the lights on and off to be funny. That's not funny, Jim. A funeral is no place for ghost jokes.

But really, all jokes aside, I'm probably gone forever. I'm really sorry that I won't get to see what happens from here. I know it will be a mix of good, bad, great and horrible things, and I know you will handle them all with grace... unless you don't, which is OK too. I know that I did my best to fill your world with love, and I know that in many ways I succeeded. I believe that the people who are closest to you in your life have a way of reflecting your best and worst qualities. When I look at you, all I see is the love I put into the world. So thank you.

Which, I suppose, brings me back to not needing to say goodbye. As was mentioned earlier, I did not put any stock in an afterlife. Some may say that a life without the promise of salvation is a life without purpose. To those folks I say my life was a life filled with purpose... and immediacy. I didn't live for a better world after death, I did my best to use the time I had to make a better world in life.

And, in a way, I do believe in life after death. Just not my life.

I believe in all of you.

And it's with that belief that I leave you all with this. You are what is left of me now. There is no need to say goodbye, because each of you bears the awesome responsibility of carrying me with you... just as I carry the love of the folks whose lives touched mine. I'm not waiting at a pearly gate somewhere. Look left. Look right. I'm waiting there. Unless you are sitting on an aisle. I am not in the wall.

Sorry. I said no more jokes.

If I knew anything to be true in my life, if I ever put my faith in a single belief it was this: You are what you put into the world. I'm done putting things into the world. My house is built and all of you are its foundation. I hope, I pray (yes, I pray) that it is sturdy and beautiful and filled with love.

Thank you. Now go have some beer and whiskey or juice or water and tell funny stories about dumb shit I did.

Love,

John (Dad)

P.S. If you liked this, or other stuff I have written, be sure to come like the Ask Your Dad Facebook Page. I'm still very much alive and posting over there. I don't plan on dying any time soon. I just figured I would put this out there in case I get hit by a bus or eaten by a pterodactyl that we thought was extinct but was actually just really really patient.

P.S.S Don't read that first P.S. or this one at the funeral. It would be confusing. The post scripts are for the blog post only.

5 Children's Books That Don't Exist But Should

Remember the timeless classic children's book from a few years ago, "Go the F*ck to Sleep"? If you don't, you should check out this dramatic reading by the one and only Samuel L Jackson. A family member e-mailed me the link to that video for the eleventieth time the other day and it got me thinking. What other tongue-in-cheek kids' books do I wish were out there? Here are five. If any publishers are reading this, feel free to contact me. I can write these.

How to Wipe Your Butt

Let’s Help My Friend Mandi

K, I need some help.

5 years ago I was in a job that I despised. Every day I came home and would lock myself in my room or the office so I wouldn’t take the stress and anger of the day and rage vomit it all over my family. I needed a new start, but I was afraid to leave. I had been with the company for nearly a decade and I had always considered it my forever job. One afternoon at a barbecue with friends I spilled all this to my friend Mandi.

Goodbye Jon Stewart

Tonight is Jon Stewart’s final appearance on The Daily Show. I’m not emotionally ready for him to go, but he deserves the break. For the past 16 years Stewart has been my port in the storm, my 30 minute break from the frustration of being a liberal guy in a very red state. And even though he doesn’t know I exist, I credit him for a lot of the lessons I have learned over the last decade and a half.

I first found Stewart on the 17 inch screen of the TV in my freshman college dorm room. It was the first couple weeks of school and I was not the most outgoing guy. I had all these dreams of going from high school to college and immediately making a bunch of friends. Instead I spent most of my non-class hours sitting in my dorm room listening to the rumblings of people more socially adept than I talking in the halls. To drown them out, I flipped over to Comedy Central and found Jon.

I started college in 2000, which also coincided with a presidential election. Before then, my interest in politics was pretty limited. I grew up in a house with a strong feminist mother and a card-carrying NRA Father. We had a good mix of liberal and conservative beliefs at the dinner table, but if I ever asked my parents about party politics the general consensus was that they were all a bunch of crooks. I suppose this is understandable. My parents came of age in the time of Nixon. They didn’t like Jimmy Carter much, and I never heard a kind word about Ronald Reagan. I think they spent most of the 90’s rolling their eyes at Bill Clinton, which is why I blame them both for my decision to throw away my first presidential vote on Ralph Nader and personally cost Al Gore the 2000 election. Sorry Al. 

4 Things I Buy for My Kids That Are Really For Me

Some things that I buy for my kids are actually for my kids. For instance, a talking Dora the Explorer microphone. Despite my inner “sane person” screaming “DON’T BUY THAT MICROPHONE. IT IS LOUD AND WILL KILL ME, YOUR INNER SANE PERSON, PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T BUY THAT DORA THE EXPLORER MICROPHONE,” I say, “Don’t worry personification of my sanity inside my head that I talk to, which is totally normal. I may be buying this horrible, evil noise maker for our daughter, but I also buy these other things for her, that are secretly for us. And then the two of us laugh and laugh and laugh.

Goldfish Crackers

My wife thinks that our kids looooove Goldfish crackers. We go through a bag a week. When we’re at the store, she specifically reminds me to grab them and says “You know how much they LOVE Goldfish Crackers.” I play coy and pretend not to remember, then grab a bag or two… or three. What my wife doesn’t know, until she reads this, is that I have a lovely addiction to tiny baked cheese fish. I could eat an entire bag. Each little cheese fish cracker is like a taste journey for my mouth. I like the rough salt on the rounder side of the cracker. I like how I can crush the tasty hollow fish orb on the roof of my mouth. I salivate thinking about how after I finish that little guy, there is a whole bag waiting for me to eat. “Honey, the kids ate all the Goldfish Crackers. I’m running to the store. Do we need milk too?”

5 Tips for Taking Toddlers Out to Dinner

It’s Friday night. You’re a day away from the weekly grocery trip and the only thing left in the freezer is frozen chicken strips. You don’t want frozen chicken strips. Your spouse doesn’t want frozen chicken strips. Frozen chicken strips can go to hell. You’re so sick of frozen chicken strips that you’d rather hit yourself in the face with a hammer than eat them again. You’d rather fight a bear. Hell, you’re so sick of frozen chicken strips that you would rather take your two kids (both under four) to a crowded restaurant on a Friday night than force yourself to chew that spongy, white, craptastic breaded chicken. 

But suddenly it sinks in. Taking the kids to dinner is a horrible idea. Last time three drinks were spilled, sugar packs were strewn among the exploded creamers, tears and screams were attempted to be suppressed by grunted threats you had no intention of following through on. Oh, and a waiter was stabbed with a fork. Sigh... Maybe if you follow these 5 Tips for Taking Toddlers out to Dinner tonight will be different. (By the way, the “you” in all of the preceding sentences is “me”.)

Don’t wait until they are being little jerks before threatening to sell them. Define your terms before going to the restaurant.

First, don’t actually threaten to sell your kids. They may not have developed the ability to process sarcasm yet. But really, coming up with punishments mid-tantrum, mid-dinner, underneath the table next to you as you chase your kid through a forest of other people's feet, just doesn’t work. Instead, let them know what you expect on the way to restaurant. Approach it in a nice way. 

“Honey, we’re going to go to dinner at the restaurant. I need you to stay at the table and eat your dinner. Ok?” Then, instead of just taking an “ok” as a response, ask them to repeat their obligations back to you. Then explain what will happen if they don’t follow through. Consequences you assign will vary, but in my experience they tend to be more thought out and rational when not being yelled while your child is eating spaghetti out of a stranger’s lap.

Bring an extra table cloth

I learned this one from a little restaurant in Moab, Utah. If you have a young toddler that still sits in a highchair, you know that the floor under the highchair tends to get more food than you do. Sure, the wait staff will clean all of it up after you leave, but why make them? We lay a square table cloth under the highchair, and after dinner is done, pick up the corners and bundle it up with everything in it. When we get home, we shake it out into the garbage and throw it in the washing machine. It is a nice you can do for the wait staff, and trust me, they appreciate it! 

Order the kids’ meals when you order your drinks

Seriously. Get their food cooking. The sooner you get the grub in front of them, the sooner they will stop trying to leave their chairs and run into the kitchen to play with the deep fryer. Pretty much every kids menu is the same anyway, so you should have some idea of what they want. If you want to be super savvy, have your spouse peruse the kids menu via their smart phone on the way to the restaurant. That way, when the waiter comes to say hello you can order your drinks and the frozen chicken strips for the kids. (They were probably mad they didn’t get them at home anyway.)

Give the table distractions to your server

Give the sugar packets, creamer, extra place settings, condiment bin, and permanent menu fixtures to your server. If it means that your dining area doesn’t end up looking like a tiny, adorable shoot out occurred once you leave, they will be glad to take them. Not only does this clear up plenty of table space for plates and cups to be scooted away from the kids, but it will also prevent the eventual tantrum that happens when your youngest bites into a creamer cup and it explodes all over his sister.

Relax, talk to your kids, enjoy your dinner

You’ve cleared excess debris from the table. You’ve got the kids’ food coming. The kid in the highchair can drop anything he wants onto the table cloth you’ve set up and you don’t have to feel guilty. The server is super impressed with how prepared you are and brings you some free cream cheese wontons to thank you for your thoughtfulness. Now is the time to interact with your family. Ask your kids questions. Smile. Touch your spouse’s hand lovingly. You are the shining beacon of good parenting for everyone else in the restaurant to see. No one knows about last time - the tears, the screaming, the fork stabbing. All that matters now is that you don’t have to eat crappy chicken strips. All is well in the world. For now. Enjoy it. Have a cream cheese wonton.

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