Death is a bastard

Death is a game changer.  You can’t go back, hell, sometimes, it feels like you can’t go forward.  It’s incredible the way death turns your whole world on its head, shakes you till your teeth rattle and casts you aside like an old rag doll.  Death doesn’t care.  Death is a selfish bastard.  It doesn’t care who you are, or where you’ve been or what you’ve been through.  Death doesn’t care if you had plans or hopes or dreams.  It doesn’t care if you’ve left business unfinished or if you have children who still need you.

Death isn’t concerned how hard life will be for those left behind.  That the life lost meant something in so many other lives.  That the loss creates a gaping hole that can never be fully filled no matter how you try.  Death is a bastard.  Creeping up on you, snatching, when you least expect it.

But Death is part of life.  A barrier those of us left behind must push through to keep going, keep moving, keep building.  But keep on we must.  We cannot allow grief and despair to consume us.  It is tragic and we can wallow for a time, but eventually the time comes that we have to keep on.

My time is now.  My children have lost their father – I cannot let them also lose their hopes and dreams.


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