Life’s Painful Conclusion

By: Brock Vierra

These last three years have not been easy on me. Not hard but not easy. I share this struggle with the majority of people across the world and I am a lucky one. I am blessed to have both my parents, my brother, friends, adventures, opportunities and when the feeling gets low, I have a wonderful woman right beside me. In this life, I am the lucky one.

I say this because recent years have been filled with grief. The sometimes untimely deaths of family members and close friends have pushed forth the reality that time wins. For I am a youthful wanderer of this world. Death was not something that was on my mind. However, the recent examples of mortality that have shown themselves to me question life’s purpose. That question asked its ugly self again today.

I found out that my 4th grade Hawaiiana and middle school art teacher Mrs. Chang passed away. Mrs. Chang served St. Anthony’s of Kailua for many years and she taught not only me but my brother who is 14 years older than me. My brother was classmates with her son, the son who now has to take the brunt of the pain that comes with losing a parent.

In these moments, you remember the good times. The love she gave her students, the attention she gave to her life’s work. The personal stories she shared while introducing her pupils to a culture that surrounded them yet remained unknown. She taught me so much of not just the traditions and history of Hawaiians but she helped me appreciate the work and the purpose of all those who came before me. I take tremendous pride in being a native Hawaiian and part of the reason is her.

But now that’s all a thing of the past. She’s gone. Off to the great unknown and I wish her well on that sacred journey. But what about the people here on earth? How do you get over a loss like that? See I am sharing personal experiences that I felt from one woman in a classroom of 20 kids. What about those who knew her best? How do you recover? How do you wake up every day knowing those deep conversations, those laughs, the honesty that can only be shared by two will never happen again? Life is a cruel teacher and it makes you learn lessons you don’t want to know.

See time is a revealer. As I wrap up only my 24th year of existence, the reality of time becomes prevalent. I can see my mom getting older, my dad getting older. The young ones are growing up way too fast and the old are running out of time. It’s hard to see my grandma go through cancer and it’s hard to see the state she’s in. What’s even harder is that I know the remedy to cure her ailments and it is heartbreaking to think about.

Now with these constant reminders, how can one focus on doing what needs to get done when in the end, it feels like it doesn’t matter? I don’t know. They say life goes on but the void always seems to be there.  They say it’s not about what you did but more about how you made someone feel. Well, what happens when you miss that feeling?

What I do know is that getting old sucks but watching those close to you get old sucks even more. What sucks the most is never seeing them get old at all. Mrs. Chang was taken from us too soon and no words from a preacher can change that. Seeing pictures of those who have passed on just brings back the pain. What can I say? It just sucks.

But there is a beauty, at least I hope. Because someone’s life’s work is never truly done when they pass. Mrs. Chang like the multiple educators that have passed on has left something for the next generation. They leave a legacy. A legacy we lean on to foster the next generation of good people. Death may be permanent and it is painful but it is only one moment in a lifetime. She lives on through us and we live on through others. A tread that runs through the history of humanity makes this temporal plane worth existing in. It makes all the hard work worth it.

To you Mrs. Chang, I wish you well. Thank you for everything. For your art projects that I may or may not have not told my parents about until the last minute. For your lessons on Hawaii and about life. For your stories about Hawaiian mythology, about family, and about how the past shapes the future. I will never forget the Big Island trip you spearheaded or the memories I will always share with my dad because of it. You helped me be creative and I will never forget you, your cowboy attire, or your barely ventilated classroom. A hui hou and until we meet again.