2009 - Things I Learned

Retrospect.

Contemplation of the past; a survey of past time, events, etc. That's the definition from dictionary.com.

2009 was a fucking year. That's the first thing that popped into my mind if I had to summarize it in one simple sentence. I lost my dad early in the year and a friend at the end. Fucking year indeed. There's just no nice way to state it. Death sucks. Separation from those we know no matter if we had seen it coming or whether it took us by surprise doesn't make a difference, that feeling of your heart being squeezed to the point where you can't breathe is the same.

In 2009, I shed enough tears. I cried for my father who towards the end went through days that I was glad he is probably too out it from the pain killers. I cried for my mom for her loss of a life partner. I cried when my brother had to carry my dad into the rooms when he was too weak. I cried for all those arguments that I had with my father. When pop finally left his physical shell, I cried because I won't get to hold his hand again. But I felt relieved for him, that he no longer has to suffer. Cancer ended my dad's life at age 73 and these last 2 years have taught me lessons that I'll never forget. What will happen will happen, but there are preventive measures that one can take to spot early warning signs and do something about it before it gets out of hand. That's one thing I wished I should have pushed my father to do when he was diagnosed. Wished. Who knows if the outcome would've been any different. Suffering and dignity and the care of medical professions. Cancer doesn't just affect the one who has it. The disease affects all those around, mentally and physically. A good support group is crucial, not just for the patient but for all those involved.

I still have my yellow LiveStrong band on. I don't know when, if ever, I'll take it off. Whenever I see others, strangers walking down the street with the band on, I know that we are not total strangers, for we've been through similar experiences and most likely lost someone to cancer.

Untimely deaths, especially those of younger age is never easy to accept. Having lost a family member early in the year, I know what it's like for our family friends who lost their son at the age of 23. I lost a friend, more like a distant cousin, but truthfully, the impact of his death was not nearly as strong as my dad's was, understandably. But I deeply empathized for the parents. With no children of my own yet, I cannot truly fathom the loss of a child of own flesh and blood. But I can see that it's devastating. He live a good life. 23 years of age with tons of friends, dreams, fantasies and no real responsibilities yet, just starting out. No suffering.

We are all dying. From the day we were born, the clock has been ticking. The duration of one's time on earth is not the important part. Along the way, we'll meet and loose people around us. You keep going and enjoy that ice cream cone after a funeral. You take walks through the park and you laugh with those still with you when you can. Giggle when you find that stash of porn magazines of the lost friend. You find joy in the simplest things and take the time to spend it with those you care about when you can. You find it trivial to worry about views of others when you stand gazing at the magnificence of mother nature. You go do the things you've always wanted to do because you never know when it's time for you to move on to the next plane.

2009 我真的懂了 什麼是珍惜 什麼是挽惜 什麼是心痛的滋味

I am not scared of dying. I am afraid that I haven't lived.