About Death and Love


Actually, I don’t like talking about death. I hate saying goodbye, especially to your family or close friends. And I don’t like being in funerals, it’s very scary seeing a lot of cries and grieves. For those of you who had lost family members, you must know how it feels like some part of you died along when they put the body in grave. But, I need to write this unspeakable (so, I write it) thoughts in my head, my view about death.

My Dad passed away when I was 16 years old. He was a very good person, a responsible husband, a respectful man. He worked hard, traveled a lot, and spent most of his time in piles of work. That’s why we didn’t really have a close father-daughter relationship. For some years after his death, I often felt disappointed about this. I wish I had better relationship with him, I wish I had more time to talk to him, I wish I could told him all those exciting teenager’s stories. I never had those time with him.

Besides all of my disappointment, all time I wish I had, all time that he wasn’t there in my life, I never had doubt about his love to his family. That’s the magic of love. Though you can’t see it, you can feel it, especially the love that exist in family. Though he’s been gone for ever, I can still feel his love stay with me.


(I am inspired to write this post, after I saw my friend’s post, Fitry Zuliarty, in Tumblr. Keep the love, mate!)

“Death ends a life, not a relationship.”
― Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie

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