On this date in the last couple of years, I always think about whether we put too much pressure on our parents, especially when we were younger. 

For the last two years, I have been older than my father ever was and that makes me feel a little more gracious. 

At this age, I don’t have life figured out. Far from it. I’m figuring it out along the way. 

And perhaps that’s how it was for our parents as well. They don’t know everything and they make mistakes. Just like how we don’t know everything and still make mistakes. It’s part of being human. 

Perhaps sometimes those mistakes costs a life. It happens. 

These days, I am less angry. These days, I wonder less about why and more about how he felt. Did he worry about the people he was leaving behind? Did he feel sad knowing he would never see me grow up? 

Because that’s what I think about. I would never willingly leave the people I love behind. And for years, I had so much misplaced rage because in my child-brain, that’s what I thought he’d done. 

So what can one do after losing a loved one to death? Fully love the ones left behind, I guess. 

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