Something I Cried Over

Deaths almost always leave a lump in my throat. 

In July this year, I received news of 2 deaths in a span of a week. Both were unexpected and though neither was family, I was quite cut up to hear the news.

One was the guru I encountered during my yoga retreat to India in 2018. We were still corresponding via snail mail last year and I was wondering about the delay in his response to my last card.. Although we only spent a couple of hours a day together during that short trip, he had really left an impression on me and I was looking forward to learning more from him...

The other was an ex-colleague who I had worked quite closely with. Firstly, she was the mother hen for all new teachers and really took good care of us newbies to the school. Then we worked as co-teachers for a class and I witnessed how caring and selfless she was as a teacher. Before I left school, she became a fellow teacher-in-charge for the CCA I was in charge of and I learnt a different (and sporty) side of her from all the afternoons we spent together. I even had the honor of her presence during my wedding dinner.

Tears threatening again as I type. As a logical person, I understand the fact that all life ends in death and it is inevitable but there is no way my brain could convince the heart to stop aching. Especially for Mrs Ho whose life seemed so unfairly taken away. My last text to her was for her birthday and really wishing for her the retirement that she was looking forward to.. 

Both Mrs Ho and Mohanji were some of the nicest and kindest persons I know and for days after hearing the news, it felt impossible to reconcile my expectation with the reality. On many occasions, I found that I had drifted off in a daze, recalling the interactions I had with them and realizing I would never be able to do the same anymore.

Thankfully, even with the Covid situation, I was able to pay my respect to Mrs Ho in person and that ritual with the opportunity to speak to her family gave me some closure. Crying was a release. Grieve.

Death is unavoidable and that certainty is a good constant reminder to cherish the now. Tomorrow is not guaranteed, say what needs to be said and do what your heart wants done. Give thanks and love.