Congratulations Kosovo 🇽🇰!!! 🙌
Only one more win and we will be welcoming you to Canada 🇨🇦 for your first #FIFAWorldCup game on 13 June!
🎉 ⚽️ 🇨🇦 🇽🇰
#WeAreCanada | @FWC26Vancouver
If your father or mother is above 67, please pause and read this slowly.
At that age, life begins to feel different for them. The world moves faster, but their bodies move slower. The things they once did effortlessly now require effort. Their strength is not what it used to be, and even if they don’t say it, they feel it.
What they need now is not pressure. Not stress. Not arguments about money or past mistakes. They need stability. They need reassurance. They need to feel safe.
If they have savings, protect it. This is not the stage for risky investments or “let’s try this opportunity.” It is the stage for preservation. Capital safety matters more than high returns. Peace of mind matters more than profit.
If they depend on you financially, don’t see it as a burden. See it as a privilege. The same hands that once carried you are now weaker. The same voices that defended you now speak softer. Support them with dignity, not pity.
And beyond money, give them something deeper.
Call them without being in a hurry.
Sit with them without checking your phone every two minutes.
Let them repeat stories you’ve heard before. One day, you will wish to hear those stories again.
At 67 and above, what they truly fear is not death. It is loneliness. It is feeling forgotten.
Take care of their health. Help them organize their documents. Make sure they are not being financially manipulated. Protect them from stress. But most importantly, protect their heart.
Because one day, the chair they sit on will be empty.
And no amount of money will buy back one more conversation.
When he died eight days ago, his face was everywhere. Every platform carried his photo. Everyone had something to say. The timelines were heavy with grief. For two days, it felt as though the whole country paused.
But eight days later, the noise has faded. His name is no longer on people’s lips. His image has been swept aside like dust in harmattan wind. Life has continued, as it always does. Only his family still sits with the real weight of it. Only they feel the ache that does not trend and does not expire.
Are we meant to mourn forever? But there is something sobering about how quickly the world moves on when a person dies. It reminds you that applause is brief, attention is fleeting, and the crowd does not stay long.
So laugh while your lungs are strong enough to carry it. Cry when you must. Love deeply and allow yourself to be loved in return. Travel if you can. Eat good food. Sit with friends and merry. Forgive quickly. Carry no hatred in your chest; it is too heavy for such a short journey.
Do that thing you have been postponing. Stop telling yourself “one day.” Help someone. Share what you have. Give, even if it is small.
All we truly have is now. The present hour. Make every second, minute, and hour count. Live your best life.
Today, our hearts turn to Tumbler Ridge, Canada.
No parent, no child, no community should ever endure such tragedy. We mourn with the people of Canada and extend our deepest condolences to the families facing this unimaginable loss. We are also thinking of those who were injured.
Kosovo stands firmly with Canada in this time of sorrow. 🇽🇰🇨🇦 #CanadaStrong
Steve Harvey: "When a man's father d*es, he realizes that the one man who truly wanted him to be better than him is gone… When my daddy d*ed, I didn't have nobody to say they was proud of me."