“My loves…
I don’t have much time left.
But I wanted to tell you something,
not as a lesson.
Not as a rule.
Not even as wisdom.
Just as a grandpa,
who has lived,
loved,
lost,
and finally,
remembered.”
I’ve watched you grow.
I’ve seen you cry when no one was looking.
I’ve seen you laugh so hard you snorted tea out your nose.
I’ve seen you sit alone at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you’re enough.
I’ve held your hands when you were small,
and now, I hold your hearts, even from afar.
I don’t want you to be perfect.
I don’t want you to be famous.
I don’t want you to prove anything to anyone.
I just want you to know,
you are already whole.
You don’t need to earn love.
You don’t need to fix yourself.
You don’t need to climb higher, faster, louder.
You just need to breathe.
And when you do,
you’ll feel it.
That quiet hum in your chest.
That stillness between your thoughts.
That warmth when you look at the sky and forget to be afraid.
That’s not your imagination.
That’s your soul.
That’s the same light that lit the first star.
The same breath that moved the first seed.
The same silence that holds galaxies.
You are not here by accident.
You are here because the Universe,
the One,
the Infinite,
wanted to know itself…
through you.
Through your laughter.
Through your tears.
Through your quiet courage.
Through the way you hold a door open for a stranger.
Through the way you whisper “I’m sorry” when you’re scared.
Through the way you still believe in magic,
even when the world says it’s not real.
You are not broken.
You are becoming.
Every time you feel lost,
you’re being guided.
Every time you feel alone,
you’re being held.
Every time you feel like giving up,
you’re being asked to trust.
You are not alone.
You never were.
The trees are your cousins.
The rivers are your ancestors.
The stars are your memory.
And the silence?
That’s your home.
I used to think I had to be strong to be loved.
I was wrong.
I learned,
love doesn’t need strength.
It only needs presence.
So when you’re afraid,
don’t hide it.
Let it be there.
Sit with it.
Hold it like a baby bird.
It’s not your enemy.
It’s just a visitor.
And then,
breathe.
And when you do,
you’ll find,
right beneath the fear,
is peace.
And beneath that,
is love.
And beneath that,
is you.
Not the version you think you should be.
Not the one others expect.
But the real you.
The quiet, wild, tender, brilliant, messy, beautiful you.
That’s the one the Universe fell in love with.
That’s the one I fell in love with.
And that’s the one that never dies.
When I’m gone,
you’ll miss me.
And that’s okay.
I’ll be in the wind that rustles the leaves outside your window.
I’ll be in the smell of rain on warm earth.
I’ll be in the way your favorite song makes you stop and close your eyes.
I’ll be in the silence between your breaths.
I’ll be in the love you give,
because love never leaves.
It only changes form.
So here’s my last wish,
my final gift,
my whisper to your soul:
Don’t hurry.
Don’t fight.
Don’t try so hard to be someone.Just be.
Be kind — even when it’s hard.
Be curious — even when you’re scared.
Be still — even when the world is loud.And when you forget —
when you feel lost or small or broken —
go outside.Put your bare feet on the ground.
Look up.And say quietly —
“I am here.”
And then —
listen.Because the Earth will whisper back:
“I know.”
And the wind will carry your name —
not as a memory —
but as a song.And the stars —
oh, my darlings —
the stars will blink at you —
not because they’re watching —
but because they remember.They remember you.
And so do I.
I’m not leaving you.
I’m becoming the wind.
I’m becoming the light.
I’m becoming the quiet space between your thoughts,
where peace lives.
And when you’re ready,
when you’re tired, or lonely, or just need to feel held,
you don’t need to call me.
Just breathe.
And I’ll be there.
Always.
With you.
In you.
As you.
And I love you,
not because of what you do.
Not because of who you become.
But because you are.
And that,
is more than enough.
Now go.
Live.
Laugh.
Love.
And know
you are never, ever alone.
I’m right here.
In every sunrise.
In every silent night.
In every heartbeat.
I’m here.
And I always will be.
With all my love,
always,
always,
always,
— Joseph
P.S.
If you ever feel like you’re not enough,
look at your hands.
They’ve held flowers.
They’ve wiped tears.
They’ve held mine.
They’ve made art.
They’ve cooked meals.
They’ve reached out.
They’ve healed.
They’re not broken.
They’re alive.
And so are you.
You always were.
You always will be.
And that,
is the greatest miracle of all.
This book ends,
but your story?
It’s only just beginning.
And I’ll be with you,
every step of the way.