Don’t Wait Till I Die to Leave Your Comments—I Want to Hear Them Now


Let’s get straight to it:

Why do we wait until the casket is closed and the slideshow is playing before we pour out our feelings?
Why do we wait until someone’s no longer breathing to suddenly have so much to say about how they inspired us, helped us, made us laugh, or stood by us?

I’m calling it out—enough of the silent admiration.

We live in an age where people are quick to “like” a post but slow to lift the phone.
We repost strangers’ quotes but never compliment the wisdom of our friends.
We go all out writing beautiful eulogies when the person can’t hear them, see them, or feel them.

That’s backward. That’s tragic.

Here’s the truth:
I want to hear your comments now. While I’m here. While I’m breathing. While I can laugh, cry, respond, and say thank you.
Because your words now are fuel. They’re connection. They’re confirmation that all this living and striving and giving isn’t in vain.

Give people their flowers while they can still smell them.

Don’t wait for a funeral to post a paragraph.
Don’t wait for a tragedy to show love.
Don’t wait until it’s “too late” to say what’s always been on your heart.

If I’ve inspired you, tell me.
If I’ve challenged you, thank me.
If I’ve helped you, acknowledge it.
If you love me, say it—loud and now.

Let this post be your reminder:
Speak up. Comment. Call. Send that message. Write that post. Pull up and give that hug.

We’re all out here fighting silent battles. Your kind words today might be someone’s reason to keep going.

And to be honest—I don’t want to miss my own tribute.
Let me hear it while I’m alive.

Because when I’m gone, I won’t be scrolling.
But right now?
I’m here, watching, listening, and ready to receive every word.

So go ahead. Drop a comment. Tell someone you love them. Give your people their flowers now—not just when they’re framed in one.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Cruise Industry in the Cayman Islands: A Turning Point for the Economy and Its People

Pot, Poker, and Priorities: When a Community Bets Against Its Own Future

When You Lose What You Pawned – And Why It’s Not the End of the World