“When I’m gone, please enjoy your life!”

Charlotte Keatley has been a blogger for The Huffington Post since 2013. Sadly, she passed away on September 16, but left a touching last message for her readers.

I've always loved planning. I loved making a list of things and tasks for the day. I'm very easily drawn into a new business. But I lose interest in him just as quickly.

I didn't have the luxury of giving up cancer. It’s not something you can throw away on the same day if you get tired of it. There is no switch to change the days at will. At least not for me. From the first day, as a cancer patient, I passed all the tests, performed all the appointments of doctors. I tried to abandon standard medical methods, and as an alternative treatment ate cottage cheese and cabbage, did acupuncture. Cancer has become a part of our lives. Holidays, haircuts, helicopter control lessons all depended on whether the next chemotherapy went well or badly. Danny and Lou, unwittingly involved in my illness, had a protected childhood, but again, they were hostages to my regime of the day. That's all they've ever known, but I hope it didn't stop them from being loved kids.

But no matter how much we protected them from my illness, everything came out. One day on my birthday, I got sick. We did the tests in the hospital, and the results were terrifying. We no longer planned everything for months. I've counted days, maybe weeks. I didn’t expect to be able to leave the hospital, but I managed to escape and return home to spend the rest of my time with my beloved children and husband.

Now I'm writing this sitting on the couch, and at the same time I'm organizing a funeral, selling my car. I thank God that I can hug and kiss my beloved children every morning.

When you read this, I won't be here anymore. Rich will need time to get used to it and realize I'm not around. He will see me in his dream, but on a harsh sunny morning the bed will be empty. He'll take two cups out of the closet, but he'll realize that there's only one coffee to make. Lucy will have no one else to braid her hair. Danny will lose one of his Legos, but no one will know what it looks like or where to look for it. You will read my blog and know that this is the last chapter.

But it's not over. When I'm gone, please enjoy life! Feel every second of it. Love your kids. Don’t yell at them in the morning to brush your teeth.

Give your lover a hug and if he doesn’t hug back, find someone who can. Everyone deserves to be loved and loved. Don't settle for less. Find a job you like, but don’t become a slave. Dance, laugh and eat with your friends. True and true friendship is a blessing. Choose your friends wisely, cherish them and love them with all the love you can give. Surround yourself with beautiful things. Life is full of gray tones and sadness, so add bright colors to it. There is beauty in everything, but sometimes you just have to take a closer look to see it.

So that's about it. Thank you so much for the kindness I have felt for 36 years. From the girls who stung me with nettles as a six-year-old to the dead husbands who in their final days complained about their wives that they had not prepared their children for their death. They all helped me become the person I am today.

Please pass on all your love to me to my husband, my children and everyone close to you. And today, when you close the curtains, look at a star in the sky sipping Pina Colada, who will enjoy a box of expensive chocolates.

Good night, and God bless you!

Your Charlie.

There is nothing more to add to these words. Just let your friends read this touching letter.

www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/charlotte-kitley/bowel-cancer-charlotte-kitley_b_5836238.html