Last week, I said goodbye to my grandma.
She lived 95 beautiful years—unapologetically herself, fiercely confident, and full of wisdom I didn’t fully appreciate until now.
Her funeral wasn’t just a goodbye. It was a celebration of a life well lived. A life that mattered.
And it got me thinking… What will we leave behind?
She didn’t write them down. She didn’t preach them. She just lived them:
She never threw anything away—not rubber bands, not shoelaces, not memories. She found value in what the world discarded.
Funfetti cakes, handwritten letters, a worm ready for the fishing hook—she was always there, in the small, sacred moments that make up a lifetime.
She traveled the world and brought back stories, curiosity, and a reminder that there’s so much more beyond our comfort zones.
Garage sale queen. She turned junk into treasure and did it her way—with sharp instincts and a love for the game.
She asked questions, listened to stories, and made sure people knew they mattered.
Including every stray dog I ever brought home.
She never followed trends. She just was. And that was enough.
Now she’s with Grandpa Jack, and I can just hear him saying, “Isn’t my Martha beautiful?”
What About Us?
One day, our story will be told.
What will it say?
If you wrote your obituary today, would it reflect the person you want to be?
If not, what’s one thing you can change right now to start living the life you want to be remembered for?
Take a moment. Think about it. Then write out the stories you want to be told and the memories you want to last.
