The reality that this day would come first struck me when I was first informed that my dad was sick, which was back in 4th year HS, in 2009-2010. Ever since that day I have been preparing for this moment: every single day I have been telling myself that this is about to happen, that I should prepare, that I should be strong yada yada yada. Heck I was even making a eulogy in my mind already, constantly editing it day by day, more quotes here, witty lines there, adding substracting events as operations, meds, life events go by. So for 8-9 years I have been preparing myself for this and yet I stand here before you today, back at square 1, with not even a semi-decently prepared eulogy at hand. Oh believe me I tried: that 9-year old eulogy and my efforts since the 28th, I have been writing, or trying to write, rereading my theo and philo notes. But somehow, words escape me. Words burn. Words sting. Somehow they are never enough. And well the truth is they will never be enough. A loss i...
n. a kind of psychological exoskeleton that can protect you from pain and contain your anxieties, but always ends up cracking under pressure or hollowed out by time—and will keep growing back again and again, until you develop a more sophisticated emotional structure, held up by a strong and flexible spine, built less like a fortress than a cluster of treehouses.
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