Age, the way I see it, is just a number but only unto the extent when you hit the age of 18 because that's when the thought of becoming 'old' crosses your mind. The more one grows in age, the more their age multiplies, it suddenly becomes more significant. More treasurable. Especially when they hit the age of the big 60 - their days will then start to get numbered. And when this happens, anyone would do just about anything to make sure they have a memorable day of birth, because one can't possibly predict if whether it would be their last.
Yesterday, my family and I, along with a few relatives huddled together in the van and left for Ipoh. It was a very uncomfortable two hour journey, dare I say - imagine eight adults in a seven-seated 4x4. There was hardly enough room to so much as move an inch; my butt was sore and my legs were crammed. But regardless, we continued in our journey - thank goodness for those resting places where people can go and unwind after a long drive. And we went through all that we did to celebrate Aunt Emily's 96th birthday. Friggin' 96th birthday!
So much has changed from when I last saw her. When we saw her laying down in her room, she looked as frail as ever, nothing but skin and bones. Her recent slip has left her legs incapable and so she is now always either laying down on the bed or in a wheelchair. Her memory isn't doing her much justice either as she's now suffering from Alzheimer's. She couldn't remember her own sister's name or face, let alone who the hell we were to her. But one thing I took notice of was how happy she suddenly became after seeing all of us surrounded around her; she became more emotional. I don't know why but what I do know was that she was especially happy to have someone keeping her company, which was none other than my Dad.
You see, Aunt Emily has always been a feisty, fussy and stubborn thing and now when she is in such a state and people don't give a damn about what she wants or have time for her, all she longs for is some company to keep her mind off reality. And yesterday, that was exactly what Daddy did - keep her company. Paying very close attention, I could then see that a wave of memories came flooding in. She could surprisingly remember past happenings or events that took place relating to the topic of conversation she was having with all of us. Parts and parcels of who she was became visible once again.
To be honest, I wasn't such a good sport about the whole driving-down-to-Ipoh plan, especially when we had to cram up in the 4x4 just to get there. Even at her birthday dinner last night, all I wanted to do was go someplace nice to eat - somewhere that didn't have kitty cats lurking around at every corner. But instead Uncle Noel brought us to some openned-area where not only were there cats lurking around, but where the service was so damn slow. That itself, spoiled the rest of my night. I put on a sour face and was so cranky, even though I knew I shouldn't have.
What I really do feel bad about was the little time I got to spend with Aunt Emily. Heck, I didn't even go near her last night. All I said was 'Hi, Aunty Emily' when I first saw her and 'Bye, Aunty Emily' when it was time to go back to our hotel. That was it. Sigh, the aftermath of my actions is not doing me so much good as guilt is right now.
I wish I hadn't acted that way. Even if she can't recall my name, I hope she forgives me.
In contrast to a joyous birthday celebration, I was also struck by the shocking news that two people of whom have been apart of my life for an exceptional amount of time, were called to return to the Lord. On the same day - Thursday.
Dad and Mum picked me up at the station after college and as I hopped into the 4x4, Mum sprung on me the news that Aunt Manisah had passed away that afternoon. It seems that she was appointed to go for 12 chemotherapy sessions but because she was already too weak, she only underwent 5 sessions. It was just too unbearable, after everything she had been through. After months of being at war with stage 4 colon cancer, she finally lost her battle. It was time.
Then at night, after having returned home from dinner, Dad received a call from Uncle Mark with the shocking news that Uncle Charles collapsed during an evening jog and was rushed to the hospital by two passersby. As his family members learnt of what had happened, it was already too late. There was nothing more the doctor could do because his pulse was absent and his heart stopped beating. I'm not sure how it all went down but from what I heard, what I just explained is a close description. Uncle Charles was a strong warrior of God and the leader of our Home Fellowship, and all I can say is that his presence in our lives would surely be missed terribly.
Two strong, amazing people were taken from me on Thursday and although neither are related to me, I still feel a lost. Simply because at some point in time, they inspired me, they encouraged me and they led exemplary lives for others to lead. But what I'd like to know is how the hell can I or anyone for that matter, learn to accept their absence now? God, it won't be easy. That's for sure.
In the end, though, I guess time is all we need, to say the least, because in any circumstance - no matter how awful or unbearable - time heals all wounds. And it is in time when we would eventually learn how to just cope.
1 comment:
You are a remarkable human.
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