Is there a right or wrong way to grieve the passing of the hero who has loved you and you have loved back? If so, what kind of a life have I defined for myself where mourning of a fallen hero becomes a luxury I cannot afford? At what point in time do I let myself come to a screeching stop and let loose the tears tucked away beneath a large reservoir of emotions?
This marks the second time in the last two years I’ve personally dealt with mortality, and practice certainly does not make this any easier. What I have come to deal with much easier this time around, however, is digesting the truth that I am still struggling with nonetheless–there exists, thankfully still, individuals who depend on me to be the unwavering staple in grieving times such as this. And I must reserve my own tears and hold them at bay so that they can let theirs flow freely.
If there is one thing I can take comfort in during this time of difficulty and sadness is that the legacy of the life defined by decades of toils, tribulations, and sacrifices, all in desperate attempts to foster a better future for those following behind his footsteps, lives on in my heart and soul. As I struggle to grieve whilst mustering up enough courage to care for the other grievers, I find some relief in knowing that he has finally found a small measure of peace.
About Tapatcho 