The dead have no voice

When people die, we make up stories in our head so that we can feel better. They can no longer argue or deny or accept what we say about them.  They are unable to speak out even if they disagree.

Many prefer to believe that they go to heaven. I've been told that everyone I've known, who has died, has gone to heaven. No one will say otherwise. It becomes sacrilegious to even speak ill of them. My aunt was not a saint nor was she a sinner.  Judgement is not for me or anyone to make. 

I guess it is part of the healing process.  We want to feel good so we only hold on to the nicer aspects because it seems to make no sense to think of the uglier things.  We change our perception of them only because it makes it easier on us.

I can only go by on what I felt or more importantly how she made me feel.   I always felt loved.

When I left Malaysia, many people said they would miss me. However, she was the only one who never failed to say so.  She never ever stopped telling me that she felt sad I was so far away, that she felt a void and missed me terribly but also always assuring me that she was happy for me. She didn't ever hide the fact that she missed me.  This always left me with mixed feelings.  

When she died, I didn't just lose someone I loved.  I lost someone who loved me deeply and who wasn't afraid or ashamed to tell me.

May her soul rest in peace forever more.

I still love you, I feel a void now, I miss you and I hope you are happy. 

“Only in quiet waters do things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world.”

― Hans Margolius