Hold On Tighter: A Wake-Up Call on Life’s Fragility, Unspoken Words & Last Goodbyes

I had planned to continue our discussion from the last issue, but something deeply personal happened recently that I feel compelled to share with you first. I hope this reflection resonates with you, and we will return to the discussion I promised in my last edition in the next issue.

We first met through a youth community that we all joined, but she remained actively involved for years, even until her diagnosis, while my sister and I eventually moved on.

That’s how our connection began, and it was also how she and my sister later became close friends.

A couple of months before she passed away, after she had been diagnosed, she subscribed to my newsletter.

She had just heard about it from my sister, and without hesitation, she took the time to explore every email I sent out, engaging with my content and even paying attention to all the advertisements I posted.

She told my sister she wanted to support me—not just in words but in action.

She knew exactly how to make her support count.

She was my faithful subscriber and a great supporter. I am so grateful to her.

My old friend. We shared a chapter of life together in our 20s.

Though we worked at different companies, our offices were in the same neighborhood.

Every lunch break, she would come over to meet me, and we would head out for lunch together.

We talked about everything—life, dreams, frustrations, and, of course, boys! Hahhaa... Those were such simple yet precious moments.

She was thoughtful and generous, always remembering to give little gifts to friends for their birthdays, including mine.

As time passed, life took us in different directions.

I resigned from my job, moved to a new company farther away, got into relationships, and eventually settled down.

Naturally, we drifted apart.

But we would still bump into each other, especially at our place of worship, where she would approach me, say hi, and we’d have small chats.

Meanwhile, she and my sister, both single, became good friends.

Then, the heartbreaking news came—she was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.

The treatments didn’t cure her. Instead, the disease spread aggressively.

A few days ago, she passed away.

The day before she left this world, I finally visited her.

On my way to the hospital, I was surprised to find my taxi driver was a former colleague.

He left the corporate world to become a driver and shared that his mother, also battling stage 4 cancer, had survived five years through a strict diet of vegetables and home-cooked meals. He even recommended her private hospital.

Carol was weak, barely alert.

Her body had deteriorated so much that it was painful to see her like that.

Even my niece was shocked.

She said, “Carol looked just like a normal person two weeks ago. And now... she’s unrecognizable.” I was shocked too.

This loss left me reflecting deeply.

Life is fragile. Unpredictable.

We never truly know how much time we have left, how our story will unfold, or how we will leave this world when we are forced to.

So, what can we do? The best we can.

We owe it to ourselves to take care of our health, to cherish our time, and to live meaningfully.

No one else can do this for us.

Love yourself—for your own sake, for your parents (whether they are still with us or not, they once gave their all to care for us), for your loved ones, and for God.

"Do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of." – Benjamin Franklin

Stop overthinking. Stop waiting for the perfect moment. *Whatever you want to do for yourself and your loved ones, do it now.*

And most importantly, don’t let every little thing steal your happiness.

Some things are worth your energy, but most aren’t. *Not everything deserves your worry. Not everything deserves to make you unhappy.* Life is too short to be spent stressing over the small stuff—choose to focus on what truly matters.

And while you’re at it, don’t forget to enjoy life.

*Don't stress too much, be happy, and take time to relax while you're living. *

Because at the end of the day, happiness is not something we chase—it’s something we choose.

Take care of yourself. Protect your health. Prioritize your well-being.

Because once it's gone, no amount of regret can bring it back.

Rest in peace, my dear friend Carol. You will always be remembered.

In gratitude & remembrance,💗