02/07/2025
Its time to break the silence. Im ready.
Many of you saw me on stage these past weeks. What you didn’t see was the weight I carried. But I didn’t cancel. I didn’t falter. And here’s why:
Death is not just an ending—it is life’s most profound teacher. It whispers in the quiet moments, yet we fill our days with noise to avoid its lessons. We know it will come, unannounced and unapologetic, yet we live as if we’re immortal. The cruelest truth? The moment we finally understand death’s meaning is the moment we can no longer share that understanding. Death is a bitter sweet ONLY real truth in life.
I have felt death’s cold touch twice—first with my mother, then my father. In their passing, I didn’t just lose parents; I lost the architects of my soul, the mirrors that showed me who I was. The pain was oceanic, threatening to drown me. But in that drowning, I discovered something miraculous: love floats.
The love I had given them returned to me a thousandfold—not from beyond the grave, but through the living. Friends who sat with me in silence. Strangers who shared stories of my parents I’d never heard.
Now I understand: Death’s greatest cruelty isn’t taking lives—it’s revealing all the love we left unexpressed, all the forgiveness we withheld, all the moments we treated as ordinary until they became irreplaceable.
What im trying to say is: Don’t wait until the hospital room or funeral to become the person you wish you’d been. Say the difficult things. Forgive the unforgivable. Love recklessly. Because when death comes—and it will—the only thing that will matter is the love you gave and received.
LOVE DESERVES TO BE CELEBRATED! Because Its the only language that has a path directly to the heart.
Therefor: to those who loved me through my grief—you were my lifelines. Your willingness to sit with my pain, your tears that honored my parents’ memory... these were the hands that pulled me back to life.
So THANK YOU for carrying me when I couldn’t carry myself.
Thank you for your presence, your love, your patience, and your open hearts.
You made the darkness a little brighter and the sorrow a little easier to bear.
