Compared to many people I’ve only experience a few deaths in my whole 17 years of living. I can’t give you an exact count on how many deaths but what I can give you is the lessons I learned from them. Two specific experiences I can vividly remember, first one being my grandpa and the second my best friend’s dad. The first one was the death of my grandpa (Allah yer7amo) though I barely knew him I still enjoyed the months I spent with him during my stay in Ethiopia. We were inseparable (or at least that’s what my mom said) I loved being around his presence he was such a wise and successful person. I’m always fascinated to hear stories about him from my family and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t learn something new about him. God give him mercy, I wish I could have said goodbye to him but that’s life, his life reminded me to go out and do the things I love and fight for my rights. The last thing I can remember him saying before I departed back to America was, “Iqra lejay.” Translating back to “Read my child.” At that moment I didn’t understand the simplicity but after 11 years I know exactly what he meant and as a promise to myself I want to die the same way my grandpa died with God in his heart, bended on his knee and his face buried on the cold cemented ground. The second story isn’t as beautiful as my grandpa’s but the experience truly opened my eyes to the real world. You can say I was a foolish girl, I didn’t know any better about life other than to have fun. I genuinely believed that death was for the elders, nothing I worried about because it didn’t affect me till the death of my best friend’s dad. I can descriptively remember that day as if it was yesterday. I got the call really late on a Friday night, it read an unknown number and to my curiosity I picked it up, I knew instantly something was wrong. Long story short that night I discovered the death of my best friend’s dad. He had killed himself, one shot to the temple and he was gone. So why did this affect me so much…because it taught me that everyone had a “dark side” even the happiest people and it was the first time I started to asking myself, “What do I want out of life? Who am I? What do I want to accomplish before I die? What was the purpose?” It got me all twisted out of anger, living in this cruel world helped me realize, I wanted to rebel against everything that tied me back, I wanted to jump every obstacle I came across but I didn’t know how or where to start, after some guidance I was able to get back up. I’m not 100% sure but I think the death of my best friend’s dad could have been the start of my interest in psychology and helping others. So I share this with you not because I want to randomly post something new on my blog rather because I want to remind you that death is real and it’s going to hurt us when we see a loved one gone but don’t be saddened by their death rather celebrate the beautiful life that they got to live. Use their life as a living guide to yours, apply and live it, if that was the case everywhere no one would forever die.