Published In The Great North Arrow, September 1, 2025: An Open Letter To My Children... I'm Dead

An Open Letter To My Children… I’m Dead

- jim Young,

“To begin with, Marley was dead… dead as a door nail.” - Charles Dickens

It’s been almost 10 years since my sister and I were charged with settling our parents’ estate. Some of the challenges are still fresh in my mind. And just as I wanted to avoid the mistakes my parents made in raising me when I became a parent, so too do I want to avoid the mistakes my parents made with the instructions they left me when they left this world as I prepare now to follow them.

My children deserve new and better mistakes on my part and damn it - that’s what they’ll get!

So the following is an open letter to my children in the hopes it will make the challenges they will one day face a little easier.

If you’re reading this, I’m dead. Well not necessarily “this”. If you’re reading “this” it just means you’re reading something I’ve published online or in the Great North Arrow or something like that. So thanks for following me and reading my stuff. I’m not really dead - yet - and I have no intention of being dead for some time to come.

But if the “this” your reading is attached to my will, then it means I’m dead and you’re probably reading this out of obligation or duty and that’s a drag right off the bat. 

As I write this, I don’t know how I died or when and I likely didn’t have any say in it. So I apologize if it’s a very inconvenient time for you. But we all knew this day would come, didn’t we? Even if we didn’t know this day would be today. 

I’m just dead. Dead as a door nail, just like Marley.

Dead as a door nail!

Hey - come to think of it, as you were also powers of attorney of my health and had the right to pull the plug on me, maybe this is a very convenient time for you. Nice going!

Oh well. I’m still dead and that’s all that really matters now. 

In all my journeys, whether it be to Jamaica, Cuba or Canmore or even just down the street, I have always endeavored to be prepared; from learning a bit about the places I was about to visit, to ensuring a safe passage home. Passports, cash, tickets, maps, places to see along the way were all prepared well in advance and checked… twice.

Consider this my last itinerary if you will, except that it’s a one-way trip and I won’t be returning. And in all my years of questioning the universe I was never really able to learn much about the place I’m going to now.

So do not interpret this to imply I am prepared. I am NOT prepared, nor do I intend to ever BE prepared. “Grave men… Do not go gentle into that good night!” said Dylan Thomas.

I came into this world kicking and screaming and I intend to leave it in the same fashion.

Regardless. Here I am… still dead.

My lawyer has helped me prepare a list of things that you will need to know and do and I hope those instructions and notes cover all the bases and are not too difficult for you to find and carry out. My main purpose here is to tell you not to sweat it.

Don’t get all caught up in thinking “I have to do what Dad wanted.” There are a few things I need you to take care of, most importantly administering my will, paying my outstanding debts from my estate and distributing the bulk of my assets according to my will. That should all be pretty straight forward. But other than that, if everything doesn’t go exactly as you think I had planned or wanted, it’s not really that big of a deal. 

Aside from the will, which is a legal document, everything I have ever told you here, there or anywhere, be it verbally or in writing, recent past or long past, was pretty much just a suggestion and open to your interpretation and discretion. As I mentioned before, I’m dead - so what do I care, really?

Hell, I might have told you a long time ago that I wanted you to do something for me after I died and have long forgotten about it. It would be a shame for you to go to great lengths to attempt to carry out an instruction I didn’t even remember!

Pretty much I just want you to know that whatever choices you make in tying up loose ends is fine with me. You can do no wrong. That’s very important to remember, so I’m going to repeat it. You can do no wrong.

You kinda gotta do what the lawyers tell you but don’t forget they can be real sticklers for details. It’s the lawyer’s job to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s, not yours. We paid them big bucks for this and it came out of your inheritance so it’s up to you to make sure they earn their money. 

Most importantly, make sure the lawyers are not on the clock when they don’t need to be.

Use your own discretion. I taught you well. Or at least you learned well in spite of my lessons, and I trust you. Whatever you decide is fine with me because… I’m dead.

Live long and prosper and remember… You got this!

If you decide to have a “Celebration of Life” for me please serve chicken wings and beer and tell jokes. I’ll leave you the songs I want played on a USB drive if I get around to it. If I forget or you can’t find it, wing it. Just tell everyone whatever you want to play is what “Dad wanted”. They won’t know and I’m not going to tell because I’ll still be dead.

Remind everyone, in the words of the immortal Stan Laurel, “If anyone cries at my funeral, I’ll never speak to them again.” Remember, you can’t have a “funeral” without any “fun”!

Bury me, cremate me, flush me - whatever you choose. My preference would be for you to choose the cheapest option… so probably cremation. Flushing may sound cheaper but the plumber’s bills might surprise you, although there might be some irony in old Dad plugging the toilet one last time.

Should you decide to have me buried and have some kind of marker please have it inscribed 

“Wasn’t That Fun? - 30 -”

If upper and lower case letters are an option, have my name spelled “jim Young”. The lowercase “j” I used to help keep me humble and the uppercase “Y” to honour my family name, probably the only true legacy of substance that I have to leave you. 

Here’s a picture of what it might look like, but just writing the information on a piece of cardboard with a magic marker is okay with me too. And probably a better idea.

And when all is said and done… don’t linger - move on.

Love, your father.

P.S. Still dead.

- 30 -