Whenever I feel like giving up, I think of my dad's death in September 2000, and I often wonder how it must have felt, not getting to fully enjoy time with the people he loved.
It reminds me of how fragile life is, that thought scares me: not death itself, but the possibility of being haunted by the trips I never took, the memories I never made, the lives I never touched, the dreams I never chased, and yeah the fantasies I never explored🥲
That’s why I work every day with death in mind, not out of fear, but as a reason to live fully. So when my time comes, I’ll be free, not haunted by the ghost of everything I never did. 9 replies
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