There’s a haunting irony in how we treat people while they’re still alive compared to how we honor them after they’ve passed. While living, they eat whatever is available—often simple, sometimes bland, sometimes good—but rarely extraordinary. No one goes out of their way to prepare them their favorite meal unless it’s a special occasion. But when they die? Suddenly the table is filled with lavish dishes, prepared lovingly in their memory, even if they’re no longer there to taste a single bite.

When alive and struggling, people ask for help—and are often met with silence. Excuses of not having enough, of being busy, of “next time.” They reach out, hoping someone will extend a hand, but the world turns cold. And yet, the moment they’re gone, donations pour in. People who barely spoke will now offer money, support, and even go into debt just to “give something,” as if contribution is finally important when it’s too late to matter.

While breathing, they are forgotten. No messages. No calls. Birthdays missed. No one asks, “How are you really?” But in death, they’re suddenly remembered. Family members who haven’t seen each other in years appear in black, gathered like it’s a reunion, mourning someone they never made time for.

They never received flowers when alive. No bouquets when they felt broken. No petals to tell them they were loved, cherished, or missed. But now? Now their coffin is covered with the most expensive arrangements. Roses they can’t smell. Cards they’ll never read.

They never got apologies when they were alive. No one said “I’m sorry” when it mattered. But in front of a lifeless body, with tears falling into silence, those words finally come—“I’m sorry… I should’ve been there… I should’ve said more.”

And worst of all, their worth was invisible when they breathed. Their kindness ignored. Their sacrifices unnoticed. Their hard work dismissed. But once they’ve disappeared forever, people finally speak—“Sayang… He was so kind… So hardworking… So generous…”
Words spoken too late.

This is the painfully raw truth about life:
We love loudly when it’s safe—when the person can’t reject us, when the moment is already gone.
We celebrate in hindsight. We regret in echoes.
We value people only when their presence turns into absence.

But what if we changed that?

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What if we gave people flowers while they were still alive?
What if we visited them when they were lonely instead of when they were gone?
What if we apologized while they could still forgive us?
What if we saw their worth before it became a memory?

Because love doesn’t need a funeral to be expressed.
Gratitude doesn’t need a eulogy.
And kindness, when given in time, can save a soul.

Let us not wait until it’s too late.
Let us not celebrate only when silence has taken over.
Let us show up—for the living, not just for the lost.