“What do you want by age 25?”
My teacher had asked all of us students to select one goal.
One thing we wanted to achieve by the age of 25 years.
I wrote down my answer and when my teacher looked it over, I was told that my response didn’t count. As if my reply was somewhat of a give-in.
It was as if my goal was different enough, that it wasn’t a goal at all.
I didn’t want to be in the NBA. I didn’t want to make a million dollars. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be a mortician, yet.
When I was in high school, all I wanted was a wife and children. I never thought about a career, let alone college.
I could have cared less about money. Things. Fancy trips and dinners.
While I would certainly obtain a college degree and have numerous careers in life, nothing would compare to the fulfillment I have right here; right now.
You see, for me, the one thing I wanted the most in life, way back when; is the one thing I had to wait the longest for.
All good things must come to an end, yes, but good things also come to those who wait.
In my twenties, I chased money, women, and poker chips. While traveling around my home state of Wisconsin, I played poker 24/7.
Unfortunately, with fast money, came a fast lifestyle.
I was a twice-dropped-out college student, who played poker for a living on and off. I dated as many women as possible. I blew every dollar I made.
By my mid-twenties, I had no career. I had no college degree. I didn’t even have a girlfriend, let alone a wife and/or kid.
After realizing I wanted more out of life, I left the poker-playing lifestyle and found the art of TIG welding. Which was cool and all.
It was creative. I was using my hands. I was making money. I had skills.
I bought a condo and a Cadillac CTS (my dream car).
As mentioned earlier, all good things must come to an end. Leading the bachelor life and thinking I had everything I wanted in life; once again I realized I did not.
My welding job actually did me a favor by telling me I was maxed out: I could no longer make more money per hour, and that I would not be in line for any promotions.
With that being said, I was off to college (for the third and final time). Mortuary school awaited me.
Becoming an apprentice funeral director was another new adventure for me. It was wild. It was maddening. It was also the best professional decision of my life.
I graduated college with my Associate’s Degree in funeral service. I also happened to make the Dean’s List.
The rest of my thirties were spent dating a few nice women. Nice enough to date. Nice enough to bring home to mom. Just not nice enough for me to plan a future with them.
To add insult to injury, my addictions and poor choices in life were catching up to me. I was constantly spending more than I was making, and I made a lot as a licensed funeral director (and life insurance agent, another certification added).
I also stopped caring. I know, this sounds depressing and screams therapy, but I thought I could handle everything on my own.
I was dead wrong. I was 37 years old when I hit rock bottom.
I had a girlfriend. One who was more than nice enough. She was (and still is) everything.
Which is why I decided to right my wrongs. I made the choice for myself, and for our future, to seek professional help.
If I wanted to achieve my high school goal, I needed to be clean and sober.
I had to leave behind the bottle. I needed to cast my past aside and look to the future.
I’m now 38 years old (soon to be 39) and while it has taken twenty years, I have reached my goal.
I have my wife. I have my two stepsons. I now have my very own baby girl.
Last week my wife bore me a child. A daughter.
To see what my wife had to endure during our early dating last year, throughout her pregnancy, and now childbirth; I give her all the credit.
All the credit for me. For her life. For her sons’ lives. For our new daughter. For our family.
I have almost a decade of death experience. I have been a funeral director, embalmer, cremation specialist, and life insurance agent. I am currently a cemetery family service advisor.
I met my wife through funeral service. We both know how important life, and death, are. It’s the very fabric of our existence.
It was our job. Our life, our curse. Funeral service consumed our lives, and almost cost me everything.
We live. We die. But there’s so much more than that. There’s the in-between.
This is why I stress “Life, Death, and Everything in Between.”
I can finally say that at this very moment, I have everything I have ever wanted. The rest of my life, until death, will be about the in-between.
This moment, this “in-between,” is about my wife and our newborn baby girl. This article may be about my life and my past, but my future is about them.
To my wife and my daughter, this is your moment.
Life, Death, and Everything in Between. 