I've been keeping a habit of crossing the days passed in my physical calendar ever since recovering from my first hemodialysis. Not for being melancholic, but just to keep being conscious of what I have and what's been given to me.

I learned it late—or only accepting it late if I'm being honest—to keep reminding myself of death. Not to lose hope nor faith, but to pull me out and be freed exactly from that feelings.

I learned how true it was to observe the skies, each and every sunrise passes, the moving clouds before the skies are cleared, the resting sunsets, the passing times. How am I not coming to realize all of this has been given to me ever since.

Being present for those holding me dear. Trying to do what I love and thought was right. Picture every moment that I know they would be proud of me. Being a good—fleeting—memory for them, not leaving a shadow that makes them hard to forget about me.

I came to terms that I lived to serve purpose, and not to throw them away just because I felt like giving up on it like I did in the past. I'm glad being able to grasp this sense of awareness rather than die without knowing nor care about all that has been given to me.