Obituary: Someday

"Someday is a lovely place to keep a dream, and the surest place to lose it."

SOMEDAY
Born: The first time you said "I will start later."
Died: Today, at last, the moment you began.

Someday passed away this morning after a long and remarkably comfortable life. It was never sick and never in a hurry. It lived in the back of your mind, rent-free, for as long as you can remember.

Someday was known for its generous promises. It told you that you would write the book, start the business, make the call, learn the language, and forgive the person. It always sounded sincere, and it never once showed up on a calendar.

It leaves behind a large family of unfinished things:

• Next Week, its oldest child, who has been arriving "soon" for years.
• After the Holidays, who always seemed to have a holiday coming.
• When I'm Ready, who was never born, though many believed in him.
• Maybe Tomorrow, a distant cousin with a talent for disappearing at sunrise.

Mourners may notice that Someday had no achievements, no buildings, no finished pages. Those who knew it well say this was never the point. Someday did not exist to build things. Its job was to make you feel like you were about to.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that you do one small thing today; open the file, send the message, or take the first ugly step. Disclosing that, Someday cannot survive a single real action, which is why it is now gone.

Nobody ever finished a dream on a day that does not exist. They finished it on a regular day, in ordinary clothes, a little afraid, and still began.

Services will be held right now. Attendance is up to you.

Your mind is wiser now, share this piece to enrich the mind of your people.