As I was starting my days this morning, I was pondering on the notion of time. There’s a common phrase people tend to say to comfort each other: “Time will heal”. Is there any truth to this?

Having been encountered a number of time with loss and grief, I’d not say that I know by now the entire truth but I can speak from my own experience that Time in itself – unfortunately for us – does not heal all wounds. Time is not a healer. The passage of time may take the edge of acute pain, but it does not heal pain.

Though Aristotle thinks that change and time is intimately related, he explains time in terms of change and not vice versa. That is time in itself dependent of change, but not a kind of change. In the context of this journal, change is to be understood as the process of healing pain. In other words, wounds can be healed through the passage of time, but time cannot heal wounds.

Time is just a concept of measurement, the thing that we use to measure minutes, days, hours, months and years.

I described my father’s last days in the hospital, but haven’t mentioned my last days with him. Rewind back a couple of days before my father’s entering the ICU, when we were allowed to stay in the hospital with him but only 2 can stay. There’s one night, I went home alone. I sat out in the front yard, thinking about what I need in that particular moment.

Unintentionally, I picked up the phone, stared at the screen, going through my contact list and I called Anh Hiếu. I needed to take refuge in someone who’s been through exactly the situation I was in, I needed to hear how did he got over the fact that someone as important as his father just gone like that. I needed to prepare myself for the worst to come.

“Buồn lắm em, 5 năm rồi vẫn buồn như vậy. It’s the pain that can never stop hurting.” he said in his exact words.

5 years later after that talk, I can proudly say that my pain has not only stopped hurting but completely healed. What’s the difference between me and anh Hiếu that makes him believe the pain will never stopped?

I have thought long, hard over this matter and have come to the conclusion that the difference is effort and courage.

The success formula to heal pain in my opinion is: Time + Effort + Courage without any of the 3, the chance of overcoming grief and loss are slim

Time is the facilitator to allow us to see the fruits of our effort and courage. We use time to self-reflect, to growth, to make space for new things and people to come into our life.

Over the past 5 years, I have not stopped working on myself. I’m not afraid to discuss my problems, I examine them from all angles possible. I let my loved one (in this case Camel) to know that I’m working on myself, I’m not hiding it. I talked about it almost every month with my therapist to find the roots of my problems. Once we found it, I pulled it on from the ground, exposing it and then embrace it.

I’m not one to brag, but I’m particularly proud of myself for the things I have faced. By designs ( perhaps by my father) , I have a special characteristic that does not settle for sadness. I would never for any matter just accept the situation without my intervention.

I’ve come to realize that grieving is not forgetting. Grieving is actually remembering, remembering the love and the loss, the good times and the bad times. All of it.

But.

Remembering is not the same as staying stuck. It’s exactly the opposite of the phrase ” the pain that can never stop hurting”. In order to continue to live our life, we have also know how to adapt to change. I cannot live my entire life on the basis of one or two experiences. Adaptation comes in many forms. Sometimes it’s about stopping and resting. Sometimes it’s about movement and swiftness.

In my case, the first year was all about stopping and resting, then I soldier on the next 4 year with my deepest attention to the mind and the heart. Consistently writing on this blog is also a way of me to journaling my development pathway.

As you can see, it’s not a straight up road, it has its ups and downs. There are days my heart jumps out of joy, and there are days like today, my souls are saddened trying to find the purpose of life.

I’m not afraid of death. In the movie I watched recently, in which the Godfather of the main character – near the brink of death – said: ” Don’t worry my child, death, it doesn’t hurt one bit.” I couldn’t help but thinking about my father last words if he has the chance to tell me, what would he say, will he just tell me the exact same thing?

People live and die by their words. They shape our thoughts and deeds. Often, they define us. Like bullets, once fired, we can’t take them back. They have impact, so choose them wisely. Live a life worthy of them, especially our last words. They outlive us.

So what about me? What will my last words be? it might go like this : ” Let history forget my name and my deeds, let the world continue to turn as if I never existed.”