We are fighters, are we not?
We have fought from the day we were conceived. Our father had to make millions and millions of seeds to try to fertilize our mother’s single egg. Only one of them made it to become us. We’re one, the only one, out those millions, who made it. We’re a victor, nay the victor.
From that day on, we have continued the fight. We fought for our life in the dark womb of our mother, for the first breath we inhaled with our own fragile lungs on our arrival in this world.
We have fought for every single odd there has been of life. The elements were there, have always been there, will always be there to try to stop us from living. We fought them, have fought them, will fight them in battle after battle. We have won each and everyone of them to keep living.
Yes, there were times we had to retreat. There were times we had to enlist the help of others. But the fights were ours. It was us who were determine to live. And we have lived. What didn’t kill us has made us stronger.
One day, of course, as a matter of chance and course, we are destined to lose our final battle. We never know when that day comes. But until it does, even when it does, we’ll still keep the fight. The spirit is there. Valiantly we have fought throughout our life. We shall not bow to a defeat and bid the farewell without some dignity — nay, the dignity — of a fighter.
The fighter that we are, who have fought all our life, we are a victor, a hero in our own right. And it is a hero’s departure, a hero’s farewell, that we all deserve when we finally have to go.
The eulogies may not be colorful, but the stories are and must be. For we are a fighter with a long, decorated story to tell and a legacy to pass on.
11 January, 2013