But life isn’t exactly like that. It is often unpredictable and when it decides to test you, the outcome, be it beautiful or not, is permanent. And we are left with no choice but to accept it and to continue living, albeit hard most of the time.
When Ate left for the heavens, she was 29. My age now. And I’d often find myself imagining how her life would have turned out if she were still with us; alive and making us laugh (and probably making fun of me too, because she was good at that). And I’d love to see that day again, but of course… reality check.
Oh well.
I miss Ate. I miss her every single day. And I got used to living life thinking about the “what if’s” and “how I wish,” because, for some reason, it comforts me (but certainly not on bad days, because, yes, reality just hits hard at times). On those days, I’d cry hard and pray even harder to God for strength, because the pain is just too much to bear. Then I’d be fine again.
In the process of moving forward, I realized that, to live, letting go is an option and moving on is not. In my case, I chose to move on without letting go of the memories I had with and of Ate. Memories that somehow fill the void she left behind.
Today marks her second death anniversary. And how I wish April 7, 2013 never happened… or if only I had the powers to bring her back for my parents and for us, her siblings. We miss her terribly. But Thy will be done.
For now, I can only rely on my dreams to take me to that dimension where I could feel, see, and talk to her again.
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I love you, Ate!
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