As much as I love summer, August is always a rough month.
It’s the anniversary of both my Ojīchan (2005) and O bāchan (2015), and now it will also be a time we remember Jimmy on his birthday (8/8).
I also reflect on a close high school friend I lost back in 2005 to suicide, as Suicide Awareness day approaches in September. I evaluate the ways in which I keep her memory alive by applying what I admired most about her to my every day life.
The thought of these losses can pull at my heart harder some days than others. I try to remind myself this is a moment to pause and be grateful for what currently fills my life. It lets me reset and trim the fat. Each day is a gift and I refuse to see it any other way, or waste my time and energy feeling anything but hope, even when things feel grim.
Your life can end a lot sooner if you let it. When I look into the eyes of certain people it’s evident they gave up a long time ago. That will never be me.
When you’ve pulled yourself through and out of hell it’s hard to let yourself circle back.
Life’s too short. It is meant to be lived, especially for those who no longer can.