You think you have time?

Doctors told Mom she had advanced cancer, and only six weeks to live.

While most would have crumbled, she kept her head high, smiling bravely to try and soothe the shock and pain of her husband and her four sons.

My mother proceeded to choose her own coffin, called the church to reserve a spot for her funeral, and then arranged for her friends to speak at the service about the values she had lived her life upholding.

Days before her death, Mom asked me, “Sebastian, what music do I like?” I looked at her, curious, and answered, “Elvis, Mom, I think you like Elvis.”

On the day of the funeral, by her instructions, the song “Jailhouse Rock” was blasted from a boombox while her five men carried her coffin. A packed church cried, applauded, and smiled at her love, courage and will.

All we can do in this life is learn to think for ourselves, protect those we love, and choose to live and die defending the values we chose to uphold.

This book is dedicated to her memory.