I lost my godfather today. Last month, I lost a friend who had helped me when I was homeless. It seems like almost every month I am losing someone that had a true impact in my life, yet I AM STILL HERE. WHY? Why am I still here when I have nothing to show for nothing to look forward to, nothing holding me back, there is nothing for me here. Yet, I am still here. Why? Why them? Not me? I would gladly take any of their place. Don't get me wrong, I won't do it myself. I am not that selfish. Because those who have gone leave behind people to grieve, crying, hurting, and that's not fair either.

I'm just venting. Death is a theme in my life. Literally. Both grandmas, grandfathers, uncles, aunts, cousins, a brother, the father of my children, his brother and mother, and then there are those who I have been blessed to meet throughout my life's journey. I once counted how many people I know have died. I counted 36, I was 36. Coincidence? One person for every year of my life. I am almost beginning to accept death as if it were a birth. My grandmother once told me that we should cry for those who are born because they only come into this world to suffer. We should be happy when someone dies because at least we know they're going to heaven.