As we go through our everyday lives, it is exceedingly easy to lose sight of our purpose— to forget why we are here and what we are working towards. But I have found that if you give yourself a reason for wanting to achieve, the achieving becomes a lot easier. Take a second to remind yourself of what your passions are and what truly makes you believe. In the mean time, I'll share mine with all of you:
I told myself that he was just going to war—that one day I would see him again and it would be as though the years of his absence would simply be a short-lived chapter of my life. As I have grown over the years, I now know that those thoughts were quite naïve. I now know that death and its consequences are permanent but nevertheless hold room for profound realizations. But the past few years have been like a puzzle—a puzzle to figure out how I have processed this and why I do what I do.
I do what I do—embrace life—because it is what God intends for me to do. In constantly contemplating this loss, I have come to find that the reason for it is because God knows that I can handle it. God knows that I am one of the billions of people on this planet that would take this grave tragedy with grace and poise and continue to live. I choose to embrace this life and appreciate every moment because my father was not given the opportunity to do so. I choose to let my faith carry me through the good times and the bad because one day I hope my bravery leaves a mark on someone or something the way my father’s did on me and so many other people.
I do what I do—keep a positive energy—because I want to prove to my father, to God, and to myself that even the largest of hurdles will not hinder me. I have hopes and dreams that will be achieved and in coping with his absence, I now know the true meaning of the word strength. I use the strength he gives me to channel into reaching my goals, and even in the harshest of times, his divinity has the power to make me push harder and reach further.
I do what I do—work hard—because I refuse to give up. I refuse to allow anyone or anything to tell me “I can’t”. I have lived nearly ten years without my father, and he still manages to be my saving grace. Whether or not he is physically with me, his spirit lives within me, and his silent motivation tells me I can. So on the days I am ready to give up, I remind myself that he kept fighting until his last, dying breath, and I have no reason not to do the same.
As time passes the grief becomes less difficult to overcome, but the hurt still remains. There will always be a void felt, a piece missing—like when I see a daughter dancing with her father or the insane loneliness I experience when my mother just does not understand. But as I drown in possibility of what is yet to come and wander to find the next best thing, I have come to realize that “not all those who wander are lost”.
So now tell me, why do you do what you do?
