Why does it take the worst experiences to understand the purpose of life?

I refuse to pretend that I have the answer to that question. Before I begin, first I must, or else I would be remiss, to not thank family and friends for their invaluable support following the loss of my mother. Thank you. Knowing what I know, and that is, knowing that I know nothing, I believe everything in life happens for a reason. So, number one, it may be trite, but never give up.

The most unimaginative proverbial saying there is never give up, but how can I disagree?

If you and I were to give up, the world gradually becomes a space occupied by quitters. I will forever mourn the loss of my mother, but the type of giving up I write of is the type where we break promises, refuse to take the extra step, complain about the end before getting to the middle, and refuse to accept help from others. At only 22-years-old, with a breadth of naiveté and inexperience, I am fully aware that that is no way of living. In true measurement of my mother's goodwill, she never gave up in life, and neither will I. Neither should you.

Believe in something larger than self.

Whereas religion dictates faith for many of us, I learned from my mother, an uncompromising Christian woman, that belief in oneself and belief in great things, gives us purpose. Her purpose was God, family, and community, in that order. If that belief for us is not religion, find it, and remain faithful to it, whatever it is.

Remember kindness and give back.

I remember my mother falling into financial problems a few years back. Her pastor rescued her with prayer, but also with some form of money. So, when I asked her, admittedly a shallow question, why she offered so much in tithes, she justly responded, if only you knew what GOD did for us. Without feeling indebted to her pastor, or to the church, she gave back because giving and receiving should happen reciprocally. The best lesson my mother taught me was kindness.

Whenever I relapse, as in re-live the morning of July 31^st, I shrink. Whenever I think about my mother and the depth of happiness she poured into me, I feel grateful.

I write for her to share all the lessons she continues to teach me in spirit.