Thursday, 18 February 2016


When my sister gave me the news of my grandfather's passing, my heart sank.
Through the pain and sorrow of his departure, however, there still remains a gratitude and joy to have known and loved him.
It's hard to talk about but I really want to share just how wonderful he was.

My grandfather read the Bible every day and he had a great faith and beautiful relationship with God. He not only knew the verses, he lived by them. As we mourned together, my sisters and I asked each other if we could recall a negative memory of him. None of us could think of anything. He was such a kind, loving, patient man. Not even as a teenager was I ever annoyed by him.
He always gave us love and understanding, even when we were less than perfect, and he gave that to everyone he encountered.
He was an exemplary man. Everyone who knew him, loved him instantly. He was the most perfect person I have ever met, he knew how to make people feel safe and happy, he accepted life for what it was and did his best at everything.
He loved us without restraint.

And I watched how he received back everything he put forth. His life was so full of blessings, the type of little blessings his beloved Bible had promised him. God as his friend never let him down, accompanying him through the rough patches (that he never begrudged) and granting him wonderful time with a big family.

I am hurt and want to mourn, but there is no way I can mourn having been so blessed to have someone like him in my life. Someone who loved me, taught me, made me fruit jams and bean sandwiches, bought me snacks, made a bed for me to sleep over at his house, told me about the figures of legends that he had encountered, about our family history. All the love he gave me, I can only be ever so happy. And he deserves to rest.

He had a long, happy life, full of adventures. He used to say he had lived all life had to offer, that he was content. That he wanted to join the love of his life, my grandmother, whom he lost fifteen years ago.

If ever there is one person I believe with all my heart is sitting under the promised fig tree, resting under its shade, with a beautiful sunset and a warm breeze in the garden of Heaven, it is him.

Rest happily. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Thursday, 4 February 2016


The experience of being a human is so burdensome. It is truly painful to just live, to be alive, to experience a wide range of emotions.
Being human is being majestic and clumsy at the same time. Enduring so much hardship with relative ease but getting hurt at the smallest things.

I am very sensitive and prone to depressions. I don't talk about it, with anyone. It feels un-real to talk about downs. When I'm sad and hurt and I lack direction, I don't know how to connect. I can't connect, I don't want to, because talking to people, connecting and trying to find understanding and relation makes me feel vulnerable. So I close off and let myself fall into it, whatever depressing feeling is taking me. I fall all the way, as deep as it goes, eyes open. Another part of the experience. Like pressing on a bruise, just to take it as far as it can go, to make it hurt in all its realness.

Often times, I try to see myself from the outside (although I know it's impossible) and it really is heart-warming how we, as people, try to go through life tripping and falling and dancing and laughing and in the end that was life and that is all there is to it.
And all the reasons why I hide seem so meaningless. All the things I am always feeling so embarrassed, awkward, scared. The unshakable feeling that there is no one out there who truly knows me, it always makes me think that no one really knows anyone else.
Some people I think sometimes come as they are, show themselves, but then, I still don't know. Surely all of us hide in ourselves. Keep quiet not to disturb, not to interrupt, not to spill our own selves into everything. Leaving enough space for others to exist and express.

Ah, these are just 2:32am ramblings.