A time I experienced loss was when I was around nine and my grandpa and aunt died a couple of weeks within each other around my birthday. I at first didn't really know what happened or what was going on, but in the back of my mind I knew it was because of the monster named cancer that was eating up both their hearts. The memory of that time is clouded with fog, but I do remember walking out to see my dad, full of giddiness and cheeks stretched into a smile because it was my birthday, only to find him extremely stressed so I immediately got shooed away. I cried not realizing the effects of the deaths of my two very special loved ones on my parents and labeled that day as the worst birthday ever.
After much thought about the situation as I sat in my room alone, I realized that birthdays are not just a day solely revolving around me and that I need to make room for other people. I decided to not be mad at my parents for not celebrating my birthday because it was my aunt's and grandpa's lives that needed to be celebrated most because they had wonderful lives that needed everyone's attention and theirs marked a significant point. I was very confused on why both of them had to die at the same time, even at all, but then I thought to myself for a long time and almost felt empathetic to the cancer, because it wanted to be inside two of the most amazing people I knew and although I wished it wouldn't be them or anyone, I needed to accept that these two glorious flowers were the chosen ones to be picked.
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