Heather McManamy is writing to you from the other side of the globe. This wonderful mother was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2013. She died recently at the age of 36. But first, she gave a letter to her husband Jeff, who was supposed to (and did) post it on her Facebook page.

Heather requests that her daughter be told about her love from beyond the veil (and maybe exaggerate stories of her coolness a little). Most importantly, Heather encourages us to make the most of each day and to make the most of life’s fleeting journey.

Good morning, everyone!
I’m publishing this on behalf of the love of my life. This is exactly what she said. Many blessings to everyone.
– McManamy, Jeff
So…
I have both good and bad news to share with you. The bad news is that I am no longer alive. The good news is that you are not one of them if you are reading this (unless they have wifi in the afterlife). This is, indeed, a problem. It hurts beyond words, but I’m grateful for a life filled with love, joy, and incredible friends. I am fortunate to have no regrets and to have lived life to the fullest with every ounce of energy I possessed. I adore you all and am thankful for this amazing life.

I’m glad you have a religion that brings you comfort. Please remember that we are not religious. Please do not inform Brianna that I have died and gone to heaven. In her eyes, this implies that I chose to be somewhere else and abandoned her.

In reality, I did everything in my power to be here with her because there is nowhere else I’d rather be than with her and Jeff. Please don’t confuse her by allowing her to believe anything she doesn’t believe. After all, I’m not in heaven.

I’ve made it. But not in the wretched flesh that had turned on me. My energy, love, laughter, and unforgettable memories are all with you. Please don’t think of me with sympathy or sorrow. Smile, knowing that we had a fantastic time together and that the experience will be remembered fondly. I hate making people cry.

I enjoy making people laugh and smile more than anything else, so instead of focusing on my narrative’s melancholy Terms of Endearment ending, laugh at the memories we created and the fun we had. Please tell Brianna stories so she understands how much I adore and admire her (and make me sound waaay cooler than I am). Because nothing brings me more joy than being her mother. Nothing. Every moment with her brought me joy that I could not have predicted before she came into our lives.

Also, don’t bring up the fact that I died of cancer. Because, while cancer took away almost everything, it did not take away my love, hope, or pleasure. It wasn’t a «war,» but rather life, which can be brutally unpredictable and unfair at times, and that’s just the way it is. I didn’t lose, thank God. I consider the way I dealt with cancer for years to be a major victory. Please remember that.

Most importantly, I had the incredible fortune of spending nearly a decade with Jeff, my life partner, and best friend. True love and soulmates are real things. Every day was full of laughter and joy with Jeff by my side. Without a doubt, he is the best husband on the planet. He never wavered even when so many people wanted to flee because of my disease. Even on the darkest of days, we found a way to laugh together. I love him more than life itself, and I truly believe that such love can last a lifetime.

Time is the most valuable commodity in the world, and I consider myself extremely fortunate to have spent so much of my life with Jeff. I adore you, Jeff. Brianna’s awesomeness, in my opinion, is the manifestation of our love, which is rather lovely. Having to say goodbye completely breaks my heart. It breaks my heart all over again if you’re as sad as I am because the last thing I want to do is make you sad.

I hope that as time passes, you remember me and smile and laugh because we had such a wonderful life together. Googling Physicist’s Eulogy will reveal that it is a scientific fact that I will always be in some way with you both. I’m sure I’ll be there if you just stop and look hard enough (in as non-creepy a way as possible). You are my entire universe, and I cherish every moment we have spent together.

Friends, I adore you all and am grateful for the most incredible life I’ve ever known. Thank you also to all of my wonderful doctors and nurses who have taken such good care of me. Without a doubt, my team did everything possible to make my day as pleasant as possible. I wish all of my friends a long and healthy life, and I hope you enjoy each day as much as I did. If you attend my funeral, please rack up a bar tab that would make me proud.

Play “Keg on My Coffin” on the stereo and dance on the bar for me (because there had better be a dance party at some point). Celebrate life’s beauty with a wild party, because you know that’s what I want, and I believe that, in some strange way, I’ll be there as well (you know how much I hate missing out on fun). I’m looking forward to haunting every one of you, so this is more of a see you later than a goodbye. Please do me a favor and notice the delicate adventure that is this insane life for a few minutes each day. Never forget that every day counts.