Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
On our way back to SG after dealing with the closure of losing another family member in a year. Then a loud BUMP. Followed by my loud screaming. And the thought of losing my love ones in just that split second. Swiftly, all that happened. 

I remembered looking towards my right to ensure he is okay before turning to check on them. They are safe and sound. 

Few hours later after the making of statements, that split second thought finally registered and I broke down. Fears surrounded my tears. Fear of us leaving our parents all at once if the accident took place just few seconds later, then the car would have been hit on the side and that would most likely send the car flying off to a distance. Fear of all of them leaving me alone. 

I'm traumatized. By the accident for sure. But more by my reinforced belief that life is so fragile; my love ones may not be with me the very next minute. I've lost 3 in just a year. My tired heart is still trying its best to heal and mend its broken shade. 

I'll remember this day. To remember to always cherish them while they are still close to me.
24 June 2016; the day you left.

From the moment I received the phone call at 4 p.m in my office till the day of your cremation, feelings were bottled up, countless urges to let loose of my emotion were suppressed. In denial of how much I couldn't bear for you to leave, I overwhelmed myself with whispering and whimpering of "She's rid of all pain & suffering", "She's in Heaven" that only I could hear. 

I remembered I've once documented my realisation here of how selfish I am to be fearful of the death of my love ones. I'm selfish because I am afraid of what's to become/left of me when a significant part of me is gone with their departure. 

This time round, I tried my best to be selfless, to think of the best of your departure for you instead of the worst of your departure for me. So I suppressed, so I showered myself with heavenly consoles instead of loud warm tears. 

The act that I put up was all good until I woke up from a nap after 'everything' was settled. Or was it? And will it? 

Staring at the boring blank space with hubs in the background asking what's for dinner, I got myself half dressed before sitting at the edge of the bed and continued with the aimless staring. Hubs got fed up because his presence was ignored, his repeated question of what do I want for dinner was left unanswered, so he yelled instead of asked. Then I broke down. Not because he got mad at me but because reality finally hit me hard.

I cried so hard my tears dried up yet the wallows couldn't stop. I was still selfish. I didn't want you to leave. Even though for years you couldn't remember me, I was happy and contented being able to see you, touch you, feed you, baby cradled you and speak to you in your own language. Now your departure rids me of all these, the precious minimal things that I could still do with the amnesic you. 

Grandma, you left not remembering who am I but I will always remember all my 25 years with you.
They say time heals, I tried to convince myself into believing it too. I was really believing, or so I thought. So I thought facing my fear is the best and bravest way to heal along with time. So I did. I (tried to) faced my fear, the fear of having to relive all the past memories with you knowing new memories will never be created again. 

My pace towards that shop was hesitant, undoubtedly. But I seemed to have believed that time has healed me. My feet you once loved to lie on brought me into the shop, to a similar glass framed container where I first laid my eyes on you. She/he isn't you, but looks exactly like you. That tri-colored soft looking fur, that black patched eye which led to us calling you Lavigne, and that adorable round butt. 

Tears filled with sadness blurred my vision gradually as I tried to hold back. "This is not you, not you, not you." I told myself, in silly hopes of stopping those tears. Then it hit me, this is why I am still not healed. Because I know this is not you, because I know there will never be a guinea pig who is you, or be like you, because I know I'll never have you back in my life again.

I left the shop hastily through the back door, wanting no one to intrude between us, even during my moment of grieving for you.
The howling of his mother and the pounding knocks on his room's door at 7 in the morning jolted me up from his bed immediately. I sprang up from the bed, to be specific. 

It was like an unexpectedly expected news - her departure. Still, nothing could prepare us for the loss of her, despite all the signs over the past month.

Looking at her still and cold body on the bed, I placed my hand over her cupped and wrinkled hands gently, in fear of waking her up. "She's sleeping", that was what we exchanged amongst ourselves, because uttering that word sounded too distant, too harsh. But that is how reality presents itself at times, isn't it? Especially at a time like this. 

No more witnessing of that cheeky slight smile and winking of her eyes directed at me whenever her favorite grandson teases any one in the family or cracks a joke only she appreciates the most. No more hearing her childlike complaints.

For our own comfort, even if it helps just a little, we tell ourselves this is a blessing for a kind angel like her. Being a devotee, she must be in heaven with Jesus and Mary now, where there should be no more pain and suffering. For all these years, her weakening body has undergone tremendous pain, with grandpa shouldering her suffering and taking care of her every need which was also slowly depleting his energy. 

Clock still ticks, but the livings will always mourn and grieve for the dead. The vacant look in grandpa's red eyes as he wanders off alone in his slow pace, it reminds me how all of our sadness pales in comparison with his. We may have lost a mother/grandmother, he has lost his lifetime partner, his confiding best friend, his soul companion.
I smell fear. Fearful of what I'm going to undergo, again: the departure of someone I hold dear. She's not my biological grandma, we may not have the same blood flowing through us, but our relationship is more than the mere superficial "blood is thicker than water" label. 

For so many moments that I wish you can stay, the many other moments of witnessing your pain and suffering set me pondering whether I am selfish to secretly wish you can be here to stay, to witness your grandson and I tying the knots and bearing your beloved grandchildren. When you're old and fragile withstanding all the pain, is time really a luxury for you or is it just prolonging your pain? 

It's foolish for me to wish for forever, but I do wish for the time you have with us, it can be filled with lesser pain. 

//

It has been more than a year since you left. I still cry and wallow in pity when I allow myself to dive deeper into the bottomless ocean of thoughts and memories of you. Work has been a real helpful deviation of these thoughts. What's not making this heartache better is the guilt that has never faded with time. What if it was me who didn't take enough care of you? What if I discovered you were ill earlier? 

Reunite with me more often; in our dreams we meet.
Fumbling through my own sequel of thoughts at work, I discovered upon an important note-to-self. Why have I always been so fearful of the death of my love ones? So fearful and aching within. 

Genuinely, I thought it's attributed to my selflessness for them, fearing of the unknown that may happen to them/their souls. Unconsciously, we prefer to think the better of our self, that we may be greater than just being occupied with our own well being. But no, my discovery proved me terribly wrong. 

I'm contrary to selfless - I don't fear for what may happen to my love ones when they're gone, I fear for myself. Of what may be left of me, of how am I supposed to move on happily with a significant part of me gone along with their souls. How can I deal with a different me then? 

It still boils down to 'I', 'me'. This outrageously selfish side of me I've came to realize today. To think I actually believed I was selfless.

Every night right before falling into slumber is a living nightmare for me. The heart throbbing aches and silent tears that come so naturally when my thoughts are all of you. Our memories together replay themselves so vividly in my mind and no, I can't pull off a smile being thankful for the existence of these memories, instead all I do is to dwell on how you are no longer here with me to create new memories. It has been 2 months and 14 days since you went to Heaven, and here I am with a bleeding heart wishing you were still right here with me.

 I want to feel your fur again. I want to smell my favorite scent again. I want to see you munch on your favorite long beans vigorously again. I want to see your blur face again. I want to hear the sound of you drinking water again. I just want to wake up and go to sleep to the sight and touch of you again. 
Exactly one week since you've left and this is the first time you came back to me in my dreams. The dream reflected the reality: in it, you've left too. But you came back to us every single night without fail, running around in the house being your usual active & curious self, occasionally climbing onto my legs like you did in the past. I could touch and feel you in my dreams. That virtual reality... I could almost feel you, almost. 

I've believed in reincarnation since my teenage years. More vividly, since I laid my hands on a book about reincarnation my gf lent to me during my secondary school days. 

And if you haven't heard of The Case of Parmod Sharma, one of the most well known true examples about a 5 year old boy remembering detailed events of an Indian man's life (his past life), google the story and read it then try to convince me otherwise about my belief in reincarnation.
What if I was the one? 
What if we were the ones who were stucked in that situation? 
Is 'stucked' the right word or does it sound too negative it seems like a mishap? 
Torn between life changing decisions. A decision that's going to affect us the rest of our lives and his or her life/death. 

In terms of morality issues, we don't have the right to say who's wrong and who's right. 
When our love ones passed, their souls will forever linger within ours, to remind us of the pain of not being able to create any more new memories together. 

This pain, we suppress
till it becomes a part of us. 
At least this pain that we create now forms the only new memory we share, together. 

I don't think I'm afraid of death, I'm just afraid of 

Iosing the people I love,
losing the things I have,
not getting the chance to experience everything I haven't had the chance to,
not able to go through what my future has for me,
not able to say 'I love you' anymore. 

No, I'm not fearful of death, it's the idea of losing people, things & chances that make me cringe & ache. 

Afraid of not living is a completely different universe from afraid of dying. 

credit: Google

Sometimes, we don't get a chance to say goodbye. Sometimes, we'll be too late to see the value in our lifes. How much do we have to cherish someone before it wouldn't hurt when they leave?

The recent car accident which took away the life of 2 young boys left many devastated. Even strangers like me can hear the shattering sound of my heart breaks, let alone the family of the boys. No one can relate themselves close enough to what they're going through. We never do know exactly how to put ourselves in other people's shoes. Each one of us has got our own shoes, we just don't quite fit into that of others.

The boys, they were so young. Those countless opportunities & 'first-times' vanished into thin air within that split second. God, bless their souls & the life of their family.

I'm never good at dealing with losses of my love ones. Death is taunting because we're never certain of its arrival & even if we do, we always feel that it's too soon.

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