memorial service
I've just returned from the memorial service. I saw her body. It looked so cold and waxy, it looked so much as if it was just a wax figurine of her. Mummy said they injected something into her face. It made her look lifeless. Lifeless. Ironic isn't it. She really was lifeless. Her hands looked so old. Tired, wrinkled and small. But even though her body looked so cold in the sleek white coffin, the atmosphere certainly wasn't cold. It was heartbreaking. Painful. When I went up at the end of the service to pay my last respects, all three of her children had started to cry. It hurt so much to see them like that. I only intended to shake hands with them, but I ended up giving all three a hug, it seemed like they needed the love so much.
When the minister said that one day, we will all rise again and meet in Heaven, I was thinking how sad it was, that we will never meet again in this lifetime. It somehow just hasn't sunk in yet. I think when you lose a loved one, you'll be ok for a while, because it just seems like they've just gone on holiday. But as the days go by, as the finality of death sinks in, as you realise you'll never see them again, never talk to them, never hear their voice again, it hurts and it cuts deeper than anything ever could. To lose a mother. I can't imagine how that must be like. To lose my mother? I don't even want to think about it.
As the minister talked about being raised up to being with the Lord, I thought, how empty the words of comfort seem. They don't heal, words mean nothing. I guess what they need now is love, just to know people out here care. The eldest son was hurting so much, but he put up such a good front, that it was hard to tell how painful it was. He appeared the bravest, and I guess he had to be for his younger brother and sister. His sister tried to hide it, slipping only occasionally, but his brother couldn't take it. He didn't bother pretending to be ok, he was devastated and it showed. And I didn't know what to say to him. I felt awful because I was relieved I still had a mother when I went home. To a certain extent, I was glad. Glad? Sounds like the wrong emotion at a funeral. But honestly, I was. My mother was still healthy and living. And for that I was glad and thankful.
In the midst of all this, hearing the minister say we should treasure life and listening to myself say that life is so precious, I realised I was still thinking about the little things that were nagging at me, little complaints I had about life. And although I know everyone does this, I felt so self-centred. So selfish. For only thinking about myself. I really admire the second son and the daughter, they devoted themselves over the past few months to making sure their mother had a comfortable life in the last few months she had left. Unselfishly. Lovingly. I feel so.. shallow.
Does Jesus care when I've said good-bye
To the dearest on earth to me,
And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks -
Is it aught to Him? Does He see?
I thought this verse was so sad. So true. So heartbreakingly beautiful. But how do you say goodbye to those you leave behind? How do you wipe away the tears in their eyes when you're gone? How can anyone fill the void in their hearts that your passing leaves? How can you not cry knowing how much you will hurt them?
I heard that your body loses 21 grams when you die. When you die, I think you lose a whole lot more. When you die, everyone you've known loses a part of themselves. Death hurts. Death is final. I think only love can conquer Death.
In Memory of Leo Milan, 24 August 2004.
My uncle Poh Kian, my cousins Kenneth, Aaron and Tovya.
