Help Them Hold On

You fall off a cruise ship at night.

You bob to the surface and look at the massive boat slowly moving away. The lights grow smaller. The engines hum. No one seems to notice.

You might drown.

Your arms thrash. Your legs kick. Panic rises. The ocean feels endless.

Then—splash.

A big white life preserver lands in front of you. Someone saw you. Someone cared. You swim toward it and grab hold. Instantly, you stop fighting just to survive. You no longer have to frantically kick to keep your head above water. You can breathe. You can rest. You can hold on.

That life preserver doesn’t remove the ocean. It just keeps you afloat in it.

Your letter can be that life preserver for your grandchildren.

They will struggle. Not small struggles. Not inconveniences. Real struggles. The darkest hours. The big tests. The life-altering moments when the waters feel overwhelming and they wonder if they can make it.

You made it through yours.

Tell them how.

Tell them what worked. Tell them what didn’t. Tell them how you held on when you felt like letting go. Tell them they are stronger than they think. Tell them darkness does not last forever.

Pass down what you learned.

Throw them the life preserver.

Because one day, in the middle of their storm, they may reach for your words—and hold on.

(AI Assisted)