Attending my first True/False Film Fest has been nothing short of spectacular. The films I've seen have led me to reflect on the subjectivity of truth, the value in investigative journalism and even the possibility of making death a … funny topic.

It isn't natural for us to put death from dementia and comedic stunt doubles at the same table of discussion, but Kirsten Johnson's "Dick Johnson is Dead" does just that, depicting her journey through coping with her father's impending death by adding some humorous imaginings into the mix.

I'll admit--throughout the entire film, I kept on thinking to myself, "I really don't want my parents to die." I mean, no one does. But as I started contemplating what a life without them would look like, I was overwhelmed by devastation, enough to make me sick to my stomach.

Personally, I haven't endured a deep grief for a passed loved one. So, I don't often call to mind how I will react when I do have to experience that grief. I don't think about it much because for some reason, it feels like too grim a topic to just casually discuss over breakfast. It seems insensitive, in a way, to ponder the death of someone who is still living, as if doing so ignores the the fact that they're here now, adding value to our lives. Why worry about something that hasn't happened yet? Why kill someone off in your head when they're right in front of you?

I personally don't think there's any way to truly "prepare" for the passing of a loved one, even if they have a disease like Alzheimer's or dementia that slowly eats away at a person. However, seeing this film made me firmly settle in a resolution to enjoy each moment I have with my parents.

Anyone who knows me well knows how badly I miss them. They're both going strong, no doubt, but if six hours of distance is this tough for me, how am I going to be when I can't even reach them with a phone call?

Even writing these words makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable. However, this film has helped me realize that death isn't a word that should be hushed. It's real. It's inevitable. And yes, it hurts so bad. But we owe it to the people we love to indulge in the happiness they bring to us.

My therapist told me the other day that if I live my life always thinking, "I'll be happy once I have ______," I'll always live an unhappy life because even if something spectacular does happen to me, my brain will be so trained in not being content, that the high of accomplishment will last for a short while before it is replaced with a burning desire to achieve something else.

I think I want to apply this mindset to my parents. Though I miss being with them at home, I don't want every recollection of them to be mixed with sadness and longing. I often fall into the happiness trap of, "I'll be happy once I graduate from college because that means I can move closer to home to be closer to my family." Sure, this may be a true scenario for me. But where will my happiness be if that doesn't happen? Why can't I spend the last two years of my undergraduate experience indulging in the happiness our phone calls and weekend trips bring me, instead of putting all of my eggs into a basket that may not exist.

I want to be more intentional about choosing happiness every day. I want to stop shying away from the truth that my parents won't always be in my life. My parents have been nothing short of supportive, even when I'm indecisive, irritable, you name it. I can't imagine a life without them, and it pains me to even consider that an inevitable situation for my future self. However, there will always be time to grieve. While I'm still living in today, I'm going to claim joy: joyful memories and stories about my parents and the people I hold dear.