My uncle, grandfather and grandmother used to live together. Through my contact with them, I observed the collective vulnerability that emanated from them. All three died within a few years of each other. For various reasons, I did not see the three of them last. Intense regret and self-reproach have kept me from letting go of the pain caused by the death of my loved one for years.
It's a natural reaction to run away from pain, but maybe confronting it can help you move on. It wasn't until I started talking to my friends about three deaths that I realized that most of them, like me, were trying to escape their loss.
Maurice Maeterlinck mentioned a point of view about death in the Blue Bird: although some people have passed away, as long as someone still remembers him, he will still be as happy as before. So I began to think, treat relatives, should be remembered and remember, rather than forget. So I don't want to run away. After that, I began to visit the places where they were last seen, and talked more about them with my family members, looking for traces of their existence and capturing things that I had neglected. In the end, the traces and feelings of being retrieved became the fetters of all three of them. These fetters will eventually become dark surges of their presence in my world, flowing on and on.
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