Learning to Stand Alone: Life After My Father’s Passing

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When my father died, we lost not just a loved one—we lost a pillar of our home. There were many changes in our way of living. We had to learn to do things on our own, tasks that had always been his responsibility. Looking back, I realize why he often told us to be independent—perhaps he knew he wouldn’t be with us for long.

When my father was alive, we cooked using firewood because he always brought it home from the valley. But now, we rely on charcoal, gas, and, when we’re lucky, whatever wood we can find. The gas that used to last three months now seems to run out much faster. Adjusting to these changes has been difficult, but we manage.

The other day, we were assigned to help clean the town in preparation for the upcoming Provincial Athletic Meet. My group worked along the beach, where we found plenty of driftwood. I thought about collecting some after our cleanup, knowing how valuable it would be for cooking. But by the time I returned to the coast after work, most of the wood was already gone. Only small sacks remained. I gathered what I could and took them home. At least, for the next four days, we are assured of firewood to cook our meals.

Losing my father meant losing many things, but it also taught us resilience. We are learning to stand on our own, just as he wanted us to.

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