I don't care if I live...

...but it's not all about me.

(I don't know where this post is coming from, but for some reason I felt pulled to write about this tonight.)

Let me just cut to the chase (fair warning, you may hear this very differently than I'd like you to hear this): I haven't cared whether I live or die for as long as I can remember.

What?!?!?! Let me clarify. I LOVE my life. Always have, always will. I love the family I was born into. I love my friends. I've loved every job I've ever had. I love living. I love breathing, walking, talking, running, skipping, hopping and just about anything else you can think of. It's not that I'm eager to leave this planet, but I've always been ready.

I've had a very good grasp on why I'm on this earth since I was a youngster and I understand that ultimately I'm not in control of when I check out. How many years I'm able to be in this earthly shell was decided LONG before I was born and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I was set here, in this time, in this life and in this place for a purpose and when that purpose is met, I'm out. Now, do I hope I'm here for a very long time? Of course I do! Like I'm said a million times, "if I die, Mandi will kill me!". I want to be a booty kicker for the next 100 years. I want to be able to be a great husband on May 22nd, 2060 when Mandi and I celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary and our kids are having kids. The fact that I'm 100% comfortable with leaving this earth has absolutely nothing to do with my motivation for being here.

Growing up, my mom even had a sense that I felt this way. She would always say, "Ronnie, I know that you don't care if you go, but remember that you'll be hurting a lot of people that you're leaving behind". Now, she knew that I had a vigor for life, but she knew that my eagerness to be with God was even greater. It's funny, as I write this, it almost sounds like my last farewell. It's not (I hope) :) Point is, a big reason I took care of myself growing up WAS because of the people around me. The last thing that I ever wanted to do was to crush my mom's heart by dying before she did. The first time I held my brother(s) in my arms, I knew that I wanted to be the best big brother ever. When I married Mandi, I not only made a commitment to love her unconditionally till death do us part, but I promised her that I would do EVERYTHING in my power to have that death part be a long, long time from now.

So what's the point of this blog? Honestly, I don't know. I was thinking about how much of a motivation Mandi is in my life and then all of the sudden I started thinking about this. I guess my point is this: If you're reading this and you're looking for some motivation to take better care of yourself, find someone you love and that loves you back. Ask them how they'd feel if you got sick and ultimately died. If their response doesn't motivate you to be more faithful with your treatments, get active and just simply "do what you need to do", then I don't know what will. You may not think you're worth it, but I guarantee there are ton of people out there who think that you are. Now all you have to do is find them, hug them and let them know that you're ready to kick some butt.