Tonight a friend lost his mother. Not that he is a close friend such that his loss affects me, but the fact that life is so fragile makes me want to stop time and pray that I will not have to go through that sad stage of life.
You see, I have lost a child before. But that is different. As much as you love a being that had grown inside you for nine months, losing a child is not close to being as devastating as losing a parent.
Losing a child is like the whole world fall on you; losing a parent is like being swallowed whole by the world.
I can never imagine that happening to me. And if I can ask for it, I do not want to have to go through it ever.
My parents have been the pillars of my life. My main support team, my cheering team, my let-me-pull-you-back-on-track team, my you-know-we-are-always-here-for-you team. Time and again, I remind myself of how much love they have given me despite me being the hard-headed, stubborn first born. Day after day, I tell myself that I have never paid them enough for the love and encouragement that they have showered me with. There have been days that I hit myself for not giving them enough attention as compared to the amount of attention they gave me while I was growing up. It's as if I am repaying them with a pail of love when what they have been giving me surmount to the vastness of a sea...
And I am engulfed in this guilt that I do not know how to get out of.
Just the other day, my mother iterated a story of an uncle who is now slightly impaired due to a mild stroke he suffered some time ago. The incident was a funny one, and we chuckled at it. But as I was chuckling, a hard tug was pulling at my heart incessantly. I was laughing but I felt pain. Because at the back of my head, I remember how loving that uncle was, how he would call me and gave me a hug and asked me how my day was and what I learnt at school. I remembered his face when he was younger, how his face lit up when he was happy, and darkened when he was angered. I remember how much he loves the sea, fish and fishing. I remember how much he loves his fishing rods and nets. I remember how he was labelled the inseparable twin of my father by their colleagues, because they would travel to and fro the office together. If ayah had to go on emergency leave, one could be so sure that Pak Itam would not be in his office either. But now all I can think of Pak Itam is of how much he is dependable on Mak Itam, a man of strength and opinion is now toned down and is sometimes at loss. As much as I am not ready to lose my parents, I am not ready to lose any of my uncles and aunties. I have not told them of how much I love them and how they have been the moral support that I need in my life.
But I have to face it - that life is fragile... If only I can start somewhere...
