I woke up thinking about all of the times my parents yelled at me. All the times that I let them down and disappointed them.
…And then I realized, what does it matter?
They are dead and can’t remember all of the stupid shit that I did when I was a kid.
All of our memories and dreams die with us. Just like the money we’ve earned throughout our lifetime… we can’t take it to heaven.
I have a voice message that my dad left me Christmas morning of 2016. He wished me and my family a Merry Christmas. He told me that he loved me and that he was proud of me.
Every once in awhile I listen to my dad’s voice and go back to that Christmas morning. That was the first Christmas without my mom and the last Christmas that I woke up next to my wife. George Michael died later that day and my dad was proud of me.
With all of that going on… Santa Claus still showed up.
Maybe this quote should say, “The goal is to die with more memories and less dreams?”
…and here we are again on a Tuesday morning. Things never looked so good and I’m already in a daydream.
I’m glad I looked at the almost full moon yesterday morning. The clouds are covering it this morning at its peak. Luckily I see those clouds as rows and flows of angel hair. Thinking that makes it a little more acceptable to miss the Pink Moon of April. None of us stand so tall when the pink moon is on its way.
Go be astonished!
