Project Happiness Articles — grief

A little over a year ago, I was shocked with the most painful news of my life. I was sitting on a train from San Diego en route to LA, and my father called from the Philippines to tell me that my mother had passed away. An electric shock sensation crawled down my spine and I started to wail on a train full of strangers. I was an ocean away, so far from my family that my mind could not register the painful reality. My mother had no debilitating or life-threatening conditions to the knowledge of myself and my family.

In lieu of the two very tragic deaths of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain this year, I want to remind all of you to be extra kind to one another for this is a perfect example of, “you have no idea what others are going through”. You may not feel that the subject of mental illness pertains to you, but it should, as more than likely someone in your life is going through something that you know nothing about.

I wrote 'Gravity' as a message of hope to those who need it, and the video features myself along side some beautiful souls, who struggle every day with mental health issues, either of their own or of someone they care about. We're speaking out about it in the hope that others might see some light at the end of tunnel and feel that they can open up too.

Which is worse, to lose someone you love to a long term illness or to lose someone you love unexpectedly? This morning I woke up to the news that a local five year old little girl, Avery, had passed away from a tumor in her brain on Mother’s Day. I had been following this family on social media for the last several months. 

Until last week, I had no clue who Anthony Bourdain was. But in no time, everywhere I looked on social media, there were posts, tweets, quotes, images reminiscing him, remembering him, missing him. I wondered what he would have felt like, if he would have seen this kind of outpour when he was alive.

I believe the majority of humanity can relate to the feeling of having our hearts smashed into pieces. I'm not a pro, thus my explanation would be more of a childlike one, but being middle age and having gone through some living experience, I've learnt 2 things.

I think about that afternoon when we played touch football in the park, with winter fast approaching. I remember the smile on my brother’s face. How he did the best with what he had and how it was enough. How it can always be enough, if we learn to accept it.

It was a beautiful summer day without a cloud in the pale blue sky. I was a happy-go-lucky nine-year-old, soon to be ten, without a care in the world. 

Generous to the server, bought the kitchen staff a round of drinks, made fun of me at the movies, tipped his hat at the old ladies in the street…you know, a true gentleman.

I held her hand as we walked into the facility, gave her a copy of my favorite poem about a mother’s bond with her daughter, and hugged her tightly goodbye.