Serendipity

Life and death seem to be a conversation that most have to figure out for themselves. A taboo topic that doesn’t ever seem to have a right place or right time. Death was just as important as the topic of life. We talk about what we want to be in the future, where we want to be 5 years from now, but this conversation of death is lost, lost in translation, lost in what it means. There was a lot I had learned about death, maybe now I can truly say my relationship with death is that of an equal to life.

Growing up, death was close, closer than I had realized. As someone who came from a Shamanism background, death was its main focus. My grandparent’s from both sides of my parents passed away when I was still a kid, I grew up with their legacies. Thats what death was. It wasn’t sad, it was about the stories and legacies people left behind. These stories were my drive as a kid, the great things that my grandparents did and the greatness that was in my blood. Death wasn’t ever something that caused fear. It was life that made me fear way more.

My relationship with death grew. I had faced death many times and each time I stared death in its eyes, I had realized it was comforting. This wasn’t to say that I wanted to die, but rather I understood that dying was easy. I could die and everything would be over for me, but what about everyone else around me. I feel lonely but I know i’m not alone. If I were to die, the pain of that would live on with my friends and family.

In my early 20’s I would face death again, this time it wasn’t for me but someone I had grown to love like a father figure in my life. He taught me some of the greatest lessons in my life. He taught me humility, selflessness, true love, resilience and the biggest lesson to this day, the definition of a man. It was our late night talks, our talks in the car or simply our talks when his wife and kids were shopping that gave me insight into who this strong and loving man was. He spoke broken english but his sincerity and love made it easier to understand. I grew to love this man like a father. We shared a lot of great moments together even if it wasn’t for long.

He had committed suicide and it was at that moment I felt death’s hands on my shoulder as I tried to grasp ahold of the situation. Death made me colder and heartless. I didn’t have time to cry, I couldn’t. I needed to be someone his family could lean on in this time of loss. For his daughters I needed to love them and guide them. I remember the day of the funeral. I stood tall and strong. I needed to protect his legacy. I still do. This is what my grandparents, what my parents taught me. My life changed after his passing. I devoted my life to becoming a better person. Just like him, even if people couldn’t see it, I would smile with pain and push forward the way he did. Unlike him, I would continue even when my pain was too much. I couldn’t leave my family in pain the way he did.

This man I talk about, I am so proud to call my father in law now. There’s so much I wanted to say to you, so much thanks I need to give for making me as strong as I am. If it wasn’t for your sacrifices I don’t think I’d have made it this far in life. If I could see you one last time, I would love to say this.

“I married your daughter. I understand if your disappointed in me. I expect that. The situation wasn’t the best and things weren’t left in a good spot. We are going back home soon. I never forgot the words you told me that one night we sat in your living room, your daughters were sleeping. It was just you and me, we had a movie on but I knew you just needed to talk. You told me how much you love your family. How your family meant the entire world for you. That even if they didn’t love you it was okay because you love them. You asked me to love them too. Love them even if it meant I would be hated like you… did I do okay dad? I love them everyday. Love them with everything I have. I love them so much… for you too dad. For you too. I hope you’re proud.”