Let Us Become Greater. Greater. Together. Today.
Inspired by Shane’s poem, “Remember How We Forgot”:
Remember how we forgot?
Remember how America stood tall, not because the world owed us, but because we built something worth believing in?
Remember how even our wars carried the crazy idea that freedom could belong to anyone brave enough to reach?
We bent reality like frontier strong men,
trained in the deadly art of “yes we WILL.”
Remember how our parents warned us never to stare at the sun,
yet we were their sun — loud, stubborn, impossible to ignore.
So we looked straight into the mirror anyway,
refusing to go blind to what we could become.
We took chances on thin ice,
believed each slice of life came with something sweet on the side.
Failure was never as loud as the fact that we tried.
In the fight against limits, we supplied the determination
that made ideas the parents of possibility.
We are not one branch — we are a forest, roots running coast to coast,
a dynasty that stretches across borders and rivers.
So when I call you brother from across the line, it’s not lightly.
Remember now.
Pay tribute to every sacrifice laid on the altar of somehow.
For all the times somehow we overcame,
somehow we pushed on,
somehow we went the distance.
We are unbound.
Six feet above the ground where we’ll one day rest.
Let the belief that hope belongs to us all
be the pledge we take today.
We were great.
We are great.
Let us become greater.
Greater.
Together.
Today.
Burn like an ember that starts fires.
Live like we actually mean it.
Look directly into every mirror and let our story begin:
“We were here.”
Author’s Note
To My Dear Friend Shane,
There is one line in your poem “Instructions For a Bad Day” that I have carried with me for years. It reads:
“The truth is whether we see them or not, the sun and moon are still there, and always there is light.” ~ Shane Koyczan, excerpt from “Instructions For a Bad Day”
I first heard those words when I was in one of the darkest, most hopeless chapters of my life. I was broken, lost, and honestly didn’t know if I would make it through the night. Your voice, raw and relentless, reached into that darkness and reminded me that even when I couldn’t see it, the light had never left. You didn’t just speak words that night—you literally saved my life with your spoken word.
Because of you, I chose to keep going. Because of you, my story is not over.
You helped me remove my armor and uncloak myself, letting all the magnificent light in.
Everything you will read in my books—the lessons, the fire, the call to “Cast Your Light”—exists in part because a Canadian spoken-word artist I have never met in person refused to let me stay in the dark. You rekindled a flame I thought had gone out. Now I’m paying that light forward to every Marine, every reader, every soul who needs to hear the same truth you gave me.
Thank you, darling.
Thank you for the light.
I Love You Brother,
With endless love, the brightest light, sincere appreciation, and utmost reverence,
