My first funeral


So I attended my first funeral this week. It was for my childhood friend, Jackie, who passed away this month from cancer at the age of 25.

Jackie’s funeral was the first one I’ve had to attend. It was all so strange and foreign to me.

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Whatever I feel is the right feeling.


Lately I’ve been thinking about the concept of feeling bad for not feeling bad.

Mostly, this stems from the recent passing of my friend. His death has greatly saddened me and our enclosed circle, and even though I consider our circle to be the people who love him the most, for some reason we feel as if we don’t feel sad enough.

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She’s an angel.


My dear friend Jackie passed away at the age of 25 this week in the comfort of his hospice with his parents and girlfriend, Fatima, in his room and his 4 childhood friends waiting in the living room outside.

Jackie’s battle with cancer had been dragging on and all of us knew death was upon us but even then there was chaos in our calmest state. I will never forget the moment of pain and love we shared at 10:32 when he left us and we sat there with our hands held tightly together in silent tears.

I have never lost someone I love before. Grief is unfamiliar to me and the way I see grief is that it is love with nowhere to go.

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Wishing for health


Every year I would wish for something different for my birthday. It started off with new toys, which then turned into wishes for new clothes or a trip to Disneyland. I wished for a boyfriend (or at least to find someone I’d really like) for a few years, and then switched to wishing things would stay the same after I found someone I loved.

This year for my 25th birthday, I wished for something I had never wished before and I think it’s going to remain as my wish every year from now on: I wish for everyone I care about to stay healthy.

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Real love exists


Real love exists and I finally witnessed it with my own eyes and heart last month when I slept over at the hospice my friend is currently staying at.

I was looking forward to the sleepover and spending time with two of my favourite people. My friend and his girlfriend were worried I’d feel uncomfortable staying over at the hospice and that I wouldn’t be well-rested enough for work the next day, but none of those things mattered to me. We put on face masks (“Don’t walk down the dark hallway with that, you’re gonna give people heart attacks.”) and chatted about life and our memories.

As we tried to sleep for the night, my friend started to experience hallucinations from his medications. He would talk out loud and try to move or grab things and had a difficult time getting good sleep. Every time he woke up, his girlfriend would be by his side.

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