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Reflection on Childhood Memories

Journal Entry #4

Childhood memories are like threads in a tapestry, weaving a story that is both beautiful and haunting. Some threads are vibrant, shining with joy and love, while others are darker, bearing the weight of pain and loss. As I reflect on my own childhood, I realize how deeply these memories, both good and bad, have shaped the person I am today.  

One of my most cherished memories is of a lazy Sunday spent with my papa and brother. We were all lying on the bed, talking about the world and its endless possibilities. My dad's voice was filled with wonder and hope as he spoke about moving to another country, about how learning English could open doors to incredible experiences. Even as a child, I could feel how much those dreams meant to him, and unknowingly, they planted seeds of curiosity and ambition in my heart.  

But with the good memories come the ones that are harder to bear. My father’s life was cut far too short, and witnessing his struggle was something my young mind could barely comprehend. I still remember standing in the hospital, seeing him lying on the bed, his body stiff and lifeless like a vegetable ready to be cut open. It was a sight so stark and surreal that even my tears refused to fall. I was in denial, clinging to the hope that this wasn’t real, that my dad wasn’t dying.  

Losing my papa at such a young age was a defining moment in my life. It taught me that grief isn’t just about crying; it’s about the quiet moments of disbelief, the yearning for one more conversation, and the longing for a hug that will never come. But it also taught me resilience. It made me appreciate the time we did have together and the lessons he imparted, knowingly or unknowingly.  

His dreams became my dreams. His belief in the power of knowledge, in the beauty of exploring the world, and in the importance of ambition are the values that continue to guide me. Even in his absence, I feel his presence in the choices I make, in the courage I find to chase my goals, and in the love I give to others.  

While it’s hard to reconcile the joy of those lazy Sundays with the pain of his loss, I’ve learned that it’s okay to hold both. The memories of laughter and warmth coexist with the heartbreak, and together, they remind me of the depth of my love for him.  

To anyone who has lost someone they hold dear, I want to say this: It’s okay to feel both the joy of their presence in your life and the pain of their absence. It’s okay to carry their dreams forward while mourning the moments you’ll never share. And it’s okay to find strength in their memory, even when it feels impossible.  

Today, I honor my papa’s legacy by embracing both the light and the shadows of my memories. And as I move forward, I carry his dreams with me, striving to live a life that would make him proud.

Love, 

Chits

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