Thoughts After a Funeral
It’s been 3 weeks since my last post.
A lot has happened, and there are so many thoughts I want to write, but only now do I finally have the time.
The CEO of the company where I work passed away on December 31st, 2025. I read the news from our company chat groups, right after I had just published my blog that day. Ever since then, I’ve been busy. His sudden death somehow affected my work at the office, and I found myself grieving him too. What surprised me the most was how his passing made me rethink some of my dreams.
I wasn’t close to him, and yet I felt sad and pity for him. Despite his position, he helped me a lot with my tasks.
I didn’t know him personally, but he always seemed friendly. He often gave me a warm smile whenever he passed by.
So, what made me rethink my dreams?
First of all, he was a foreigner. He was a British, living in my country. I don’t know exactly since when, but he was married to a local woman and had a 20 yo daughter and an 18 yo son. So I assume he had lived here for more than twenty years.
But at his funeral, I noticed there weren’t many people from his own family or even from his wife’s side. This felt unusual in my country and culture. Here, when someone passes away, many people usually come, our close family, extended family, relatives, friends, colleagues, even neighbors. Funerals are often crowded. So I was surprised that his wasn’t. I had expected at least hundreds of people would have come.
That moment made me question myself, do I really want to spend my life abroad, far away from my family?
What if I die in a foreign land, where no one is close enough to bury me?
What if they don’t even know that I’ve died?
And when I say “family,” I’m not even sure I can call them close. I’ve spent most of my life asking myself where my place is among them. And it’s kind of ironic, since I’ve been the one dreaming of leaving them.
It’s true. I’ve wanted to live abroad for quite some time, mostly because I want to run away from my family. I don’t know where I belong here. This family? Or that family? It feels like I don’t truly belong with any of them.
But going back to the funeral, whether it’s crowded or not, I guess it depends on how many friends, relatices or loved ones do we have in our lives. Even if the circle is small, maybe that’s enough.
And now I think I understand why this thought disturbed me so much.
It’s not about where I die.
It’s not even about being abroad.
I’m afraid of dying alone.
I’m afraid no one will come to my funeral.
I’m afraid that my life will end tragically, all the way until I’m laid
in my grave.