38-year-old woman wrote her own obituary, we aII need to read it
Sonia Todd of Moscow, Idaho, died of cancer at the young age of 38. But knowing the end was near, she decided to write her own obituary before passing away. As she explained, obituaries were usually written a couple of different ways that she simply didn’t care for. So, as one of her last acts on this earth, she put pen to paper and decided for herself how her obituary would read.
The result of Sonia confronting her own mortality as she penned her obituary was a piece full of humor as well as wisdom, appearing in the Moscow-Pullman Daily News. The words were so honest and inspirational that long after her death, they will still ring true, giving others something to aspire to. Ironically, Sonia wrote, “I never really accomplished anything of note.” How wrong she was. The truth expressed in the obituary she wrote proved to be quite an accomplishment in and of itself.
“Other than giving birth to my two wonderful, lovable, witty and amazing sons (James and Jason), marrying my gracious, understanding and precious husband (Brian), and accepting the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal savior – I have done very little. None of which requires obit space that I have to shell out money for,” Sonia Todd began, explaining why she was writing her obituary and why it wouldn’t be like others.
Adding that she didn’t want a bunch of her loved ones sitting around to write a glowing report of her, which she says would be “filled with fish tales, half-truths, impossible scenarios, and out-right-honest-to-goodness-lies,” Sonia explained she simply didn’t like putting people in those kinds of situations. With the explanation out of the way, she got to her version of the truth about her own life.
“I just tried to do the best I could. Sometimes I succeeded, most of the time I failed, but I tried. For all of my crazy comments, jokes and complaints, I really did love people. The only thing that separates me from anyone else is the type of sin each of us participated in. I didn’t always do the right thing or say the right thing and when you come to the end of your life those are the things you really regret, the small simple things that hurt other people,” Sonia admitted.
Although she said that she mostly enjoyed life, she also said it wasn’t perfect and that she encountered many bumps in the road, especially in her teens and early 20s. Even though some parts of her life were harder than others, Sonia said, “I learned something from every bad situation and I couldn’t do any more than that.” She also claimed there were benefits to dying young. Jokingly, she wrote, “I still owe on my student loans and the jokes on them cuz I’m not paying them.
Plus, I am no longer afraid of serial killers, telemarketers or the IRS.”Addressing the fact that some people have told her that writing her own obituary is morbid, Sonia Todd continued, “I think it is great because I get a chance to say thank you to all the people who helped me along the way. Those who loved me, assisted me, cared for me, laughed with me and taught me things so that I could have a wonderful, happy life. I was blessed beyond measure by knowing all of you. That is what made my life worthwhile.”
It was the conclusion of her obituary that was the most important, however. Sonia encouraged others to change their lives. “If you think of me, and would like to do something in honor of my memory do this: Volunteer at a school, church or library. Write a letter to someone and tell them how they have had a positive effect on your life. If you smoke – quit. If you drink and drive – stop,” she wrote.
Her advise continued, “Turn off the electronics and take a kid out for ice cream and talk to them about their hopes and dreams. Forgive someone who doesn’t deserve it. Stop at all lemonade-stands run by kids and brag about their product. Make someone smile today if it is in your power to do so.”
Today seems like a good day to honor Sonia’s memory by completing some of these simple requests and reminding others to do the same. Luckily for us, we still have time for these things. And, thankfully, with her dying wish, Sonia Todd left us these words of wisdom that few realize until it’s too late
I CAME HOME EARLY TO SURPRISE MY HUSBAND… AND HE WAS CELEBRATING A BABY WITH SOMEONE ELSE.
I Got Back Early From The Company Christmas Party Without Notifying Anyone. I Planned To Surprise My Husband. When I Hung Up My Coat, His Voice Broke Through The Noise: “Madison Is Pregnant! We’re Having A Baby Boy.” I Froze In The Hallway.... Who Was Madison?
Claire Whitman came home early because the Christmas party at Hawthorne & Reed had become too loud, too drunk, and too fake. She had told her coworkers she was staying until midnight, but at 9:38 p.m. she was already turning into her quiet subdivision in Arlington, Virginia, carrying a bakery box with Daniel’s favorite peppermint cheesecake.
She imagined his face when she walked in. For six months they had been drifting through the same house like polite strangers. Work, bills, fertility appointments, silence. Tonight she wanted to fix something small before everything became unfixable.
The driveway was full.
Not just Daniel’s truck. There was a silver Honda, her brother-in-law’s SUV, and a black sedan she did not recognize. Through the frosted front windows, warm light moved across the curtains. Laughter rolled out when she unlocked the door.
Claire stepped inside carefully, her heels sinking into the mat. The living room was crowded with people she knew: Daniel’s older brother, his mother, two neighbors. No one saw her from the hallway. Christmas music played from the kitchen speaker, but Daniel’s voice cut through it, bright and shaking with excitement.
“Madison is pregnant! We’re having a baby boy.”
The bakery box slipped from Claire’s hand and hit the floor. The cheesecake smashed against the cardboard lid.
No one heard that either.
She stood beside the coat rack, one hand still on her scarf, her heart slamming so hard she felt it in her teeth. Madison. A woman’s name. Pregnant. We’re having. Baby boy.
Daniel appeared in the kitchen doorway with a glass of champagne raised in one hand. His smile died the instant he saw her.
The room turned.
His mother whispered, “Oh, God.”
Claire looked at Daniel first, then at every face that suddenly knew something she did not. Her voice came out calm, which frightened her more than screaming would have.
“Who is Madison?”
Daniel set the glass down too fast. Champagne spilled across the counter.
“Claire, I can explain.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
His brother stared at the floor. The neighbors moved toward the door. Daniel took one step toward her, but she backed away.
“Do not touch me.”
A young woman Claire had never seen before rose slowly from the couch. She could not have been more than twenty-four. Her hand rested on a barely visible bump beneath a red sweater.
“I’m Madison,” she said, eyes wet. “And I’m so sorry. He told me you knew.
“He told you I knew?” Claire asked, the words feeling like dry ash in her throat.
Daniel stepped between them, his hands raised in a placating gesture, his face pale. “Claire, please. Let's go upstairs. We can talk about this privately.”
“We are not going anywhere privately,” Claire said, her voice dropping to a terrifyingly even pitch. She looked past him to the woman who had welcomed her into the family five years ago. “Helen? You were helping me with my IVF injections last month. And tonight, you're drinking champagne in my living room to celebrate his mistress?”
Helen clutched her pearl necklace, her face flushing a deep, guilty red. “Daniel deserves to be a father, Claire. You were... struggling. It was tearing him apart. We didn't want to hurt you, but a child is a blessing.”
The sheer audacity of it knocked the breath out of Claire. It wasn't just a betrayal; it was a conspiracy. His mother, his brother, the neighbors. They had all gathered in her home, drinking from her glasses, celebrating the destruction of her marriage while she was out earning the paycheck that funded their lifestyle.
Claire turned her attention back to the twenty-four-year-old girl in the red sweater. Madison looked genuinely horrified, her trembling hands resting on her stomach.
“What else did he tell you, Madison?” Claire asked, ignoring Daniel completely.
Madison swallowed hard, a tear spilling over her lashes. “He said... he said you two had been separated for months. That you were just living together until the divorce was finalized because you couldn't afford to move out. He said he was keeping the house.”
A sharp, breathless laugh escaped Claire’s lips. It cut through the silence like shattered glass.
“I see,” Claire said. She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. “Daniel, did you forget whose name is on the deed to this house?”
Daniel’s jaw tightened. “Claire, don't do this right now. Not in front of everyone.”
“My grandfather left me the money for this house, Daniel. My name is the only one on the deed. And my name is the only one on the mortgage.” Claire looked at the brother, the neighbors, and finally at Helen. “Party's over. Everyone out.”
“You can't just throw us out into the cold!” Helen sputtered, her maternal concern suddenly shifting to outrage.
“Watch me,” Claire replied, tapping the screen of her phone. “I'm dialing 911 in thirty seconds to report a home invasion. Whoever is still standing in my living room when the police arrive can explain to them why they are trespassing.”
The neighbors were the first to move. They rushed past Claire with their heads down, muttering frantic apologies, unable to make eye contact. Daniel's brother grabbed Helen by the arm, dragging her toward the door despite her indignant protests.
Madison stood frozen. “I didn't know,” she whispered. “I swear to God, Claire, I wouldn't have done this if I knew.”
Claire looked at the young woman. The anger in Claire's chest was a roaring fire, but it wasn't directed at the girl who had been sold the exact same lies she had. Daniel had played them both, building two separate realities to serve his own ego.
“I believe you, Madison,” Claire said softly. “But you need to leave, too.”
Madison nodded quickly, grabbed her coat from the back of the sofa, and hurried out the door without looking back at Daniel.
Suddenly, the house was devastatingly quiet, except for the Christmas music still playing cheerfully from the kitchen speaker. Daniel stood alone in the center of the living room, the remnants of his secret life scattered around him in the form of half-empty champagne glasses and discarded gift wrap.
“Claire,” he pleaded, taking a step forward. “I panicked. The IVF wasn't working, and Madison was just... a mistake that went too far. I love you.”
Claire looked down at the crushed peppermint cheesecake on the floor—the small, foolish olive branch she had brought home to fix a marriage that had already been dead for months.
“You have exactly ten minutes to pack a bag,” Claire said, opening the front door wide and letting the freezing December air sweep into the house. “Then I am changing the alarm code. You can call your lawyer in the morning. Assuming you can afford one without my salary.”
Daniel stared at her, the realization finally dawning on his face that the quiet, accommodating wife he had taken for granted was gone forever. Without another word, he turned and walked up the stairs.
Claire stood in the doorway, the cold wind biting her cheeks. She was surrounded by the ruins of her life, her marriage over, her trust shattered. But as she watched Daniel’s truck pull out of her driveway ten minutes later, she closed the heavy front door and locked it. She took a deep, steadying breath.
She had lost a husband, but for the first time in years, she had her home entirely to herself.
