To laugh or to cry.
The ultimate cliché:
What is life?
Or perhaps, what is
death? Death is the absence of life?
I don’t know what else
to say.
For the longest time,
I’ve never had to deal with this topic in such close proximity. The grandparents of mine who have left, had
left when I was too young to comprehend the gravity of the passing on of a
person. Wakes and funerals were just another time to meet up with my cousins
and kick a ball around the void deck, the only difference being that we had to
wear these sombre monotonous colours.
Then in the past 10
days, this concept has been taken one step closer, not yet close enough to my
heart for me to bawl my eyes out, but close enough to send pangs of loss and
slight grief.
The memories are vague
and fleeting, but rest assured I’ll grab whatever is left, and honour you for
who I know you as. Surely, there are many other people who know you better and
love you more, and I sincerely hope they receive comfort as they remember you.
I pray that you’re somewhere better, somewhere without stress or worries,
somewhere beautiful, somewhere you will continue to enjoy God’s presence
eternally.
(I’m sorry, April Fools
is supposed to be a light and jovial day but it’s just not totally appropriate
right now.)
But what does this mean?