I wish you could see me now.
I’m an author, Dad.
Your name – our name – is on the cover of my book: Guajardo.
You would be proud of me.
Others perpetually tell me that you’d be proud of me.
(Tears are rolling.)
I own my own business, Dad.
Doctors hire me; engineers hire me; corporate leaders hire me; lawyers hire me.
You’d be proud. I promise you would.
Businesses trust me me to speak to their employees; schools trust me to speak to their students; churches trust me to speak to their members; couples trust me to officiate their weddings; families trust me to speak at funerals.
I wish you could see me.
I have a Podcast that has listeners in 44 states across the U.S and over 28 countries across the world.
You would be proud of me.
I have an amazing wife. I wish you could have met her, danced with her, laughed with her.
Parents trust me to connect with their children. They ask me to because they know I will be an uplifting influence on them.
You would be proud of me.
I’ve made an impact in my community. I’ve visited men and women in prisons. I’ve motivated women and children at the Battered Women and Children’s center.
I’ve memorized thousands of Scriptures to help others; I’ve memorized hundreds of other principles from bestselling books.
I wish you could see me.
I’m a lot like you. I get “lost” in my present moments and the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I’m not afraid of attention. I love people. I love being around my friends. I love making new friends.
I wish you could see yourself in me.
Your death changed me. Suicide. I wonder about hope in your life. I may never know if you had it. But with my journey, I am obsessively focused on inspiring hope, elevating hope, and empowering hope to others in all parts of life. Your legacy nad my legacy will be hope.
Your son,
Anti-Strong 