Tuesday, December 1, 2009

When death comes knocking

As I thought this year was going to be one where I will not suffer a profound grief like the 2 years before, the rug was swept from under me. This is the 3rd year in consecutive that I find myself losing people who occupies huge spaces in my heart. Now, there are so many empty rooms to fill. a vacancy. a vacumm that I can never know how to fill. You never really get over the loss of a loved one, you just try very hard to get on with your life.

In 2007, I was 6 months fresh back home from England. I remember vividly leaving for K.L. after spending Chinese New Year with grams where I was sitting at the footsteps of my maindoor when grams said to the back of my head, "come back more often alright?" and I just nodded without turning to look at her. 2 weeks later, I lost her to dehydration/gaut and I will never hear grams telling me to come home to visit her anymore. It was heartbreaking for me because I never had the chance to say goodbye and even more difficult for my mum who felt she could have done something to save grams.

In 2008, I was midstream studying for my final hurdle to qualify to be a full fledge lawyer when Jason left. It was exactly a year after grams passing and his parting words still resonates clearly in my ears. It shattered my heart into a million pieces and he left a hole in my heart that is in his shape that no one has seemed able to fill. I felt my loneliest hours in England, my coldest Spring and my bitterest tears was called forth by the memory of hours we spent together, the promises broken and the dreams vanished.

Today in the year 2009, I lost my godmum, someone I fondly call mama walrus. That woman who made funny jokes with me, that woman who rang me all the way from Malaysia when I was having a hard time in England just to hear me breathe, that woman who made the walrus family complete and that woman whom I will never get to tell her, that I love her.

Each and every one of them took a piece of me with them when they left. All they left behind were memories that I had to live with, memories that I know will never be enough to last me a lifetime, memories that will soon fade out through time. the reality of impermenance hit me. Although I have experienced the grief of losing a loved one, it never gets easier with the next. Each and every person who takes up residence in my heart deserves to be there in some way. They are irreplaceable in their very own aspects. Most of us cannot understand how to cope. Our intelligence is reduce to that of a child and our innocence is shattered.

In the first year, you look the same, but you’re different. Someone who was a part of you is gone. You feel as if you’ve been abducted by aliens who have conducted experiments that have changed you. You look around for others who have also been abducted (lost a loved one) to compare notes with. You know those who haven’t lost someone close yet will be abducted someday too. But you can’t tell them much about it, because they won’t believe you.

The first couple of years: You know how it is when you’ve lost a tooth, and your tongue keeps going to the spot where the tooth used to be? Your tongue is drawn to feel the remaining sharp edges and to repeatedly examine the huge gapping hole left in the tooth’s place. You realize you’ll have to learn to eat differently. It’s sort of like that, losing someone you love. Your mind is compelled to review every detail of your loved ones life and death. It’s a seductive kind of torture that feels good while it hurts.




By the 3rd year after losing a loved one, you’re busy with your life. You don’t cry much. Things seem okay, but then you remember: They’re gone. They’re still really gone. It’s like getting the punch line to a very bad joke, over and over.

It never gets better. You just learn how to cope. There may be new people to fill in those spaces but the gap never closes.