Losing my mom was quite possibly the worst thing that ever happened to me…
…and at the same time it was one of the best things to ever happen to me.
Nancy was my rock. She was my champion. She would pick me up when I was down.
I was 24 when it happened.
To put it in context: At 24 years old I was a shit kid.
I dropped out of high school, I thought I was some sort of badass Asian gangster, I drank regularly, I did a lot of psychedelics (before they became a thing) and I partying A LOT.
I always felt like I was destined for something greater but at the time I was more caught up in the short term fixations of life.
Truth be told…I was fucking scared. Scare of becoming and scared of failing.
My mom would see me come home from a rave at 8am in the morning with dirt all over my face and just shake her head. She didn’t know what to do with me.
She would sit me down at her desk at work (we owned a small printing shop in North York) and she’d always try to get me to put my life together.
Even though I was getting scolded she would always end things off by telling me that I could do anything in this world as long as I put my mind to it.
And at 24 years old…I suddenly lost her.
When she was gone I had no one to tell me that it was going to be okay. I had no one to console me anymore.
Her death was both a sobering and enlightening experience at the same time.
Her death was sobering because I had taken for granted everything given to me at the time…
I was headed for nowhere fast and it made me realize just how fucked up I was living life.
I felt guilty for taking her for granted. I felt horrible for seeing all the times she tried to get me straight just for me to blow her off.
Her death was enlightening because it made me realize just how fragile life really is…
She was just a shade under 50 when she passed. I realized that this thing we call life could very well be taken away from us at a moments notice. Life doesn’t do retakes. It doesn’t have a reset button.
Losing my mom was my turning point.
It that exact time when I gave up my excuses and started to really think about where I wanted to really go and, more importantly, what I wanted to do…and to start taking action towards it.
It made me realize that life is short. That most things we think we care for are completely meaningless.
It made me realize that the only “risk” we take in life is not going after the things we feel we are destined to do.
I’ve always believed that a death in someone’s life can push people in one of two ways.
It could either be looked at as a place of despair. A place of loss. An empty void never to be filled again.
Or it can be looked at as a place of strength.
A reason to become stronger. A reason to become resilient. A way to become more “Unfuckwittable”.
I chose the latter path and I haven’t looked back ever since.
Happy mothers day to all the moms.
You are special, powerful and you make a difference even when those you serve may not be showing it.
Ps. The picture is what I carry with me in my backpack everywhere I go. She’s with me at all times.
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