Of Life and Death

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Ever since the missing of MH370, the whole nation, or rather the whole world was sent into a state of fear and anguish.  As I followed the latest live blog on AirAsia’s flight QZ8501, I just don’t know how to describe how I’m feeling.

My Facebook wall is filled with all sorts of related prayers, status updates, think aloud from people all over the world, but I have not been able to update anything.  I didn’t post anything or show any sympathy, empathy, not even the slightest emotion regarding the aerial mishaps in 2014.  I just think that most probably I’m escaping the thoughts that would send me back to the dark abyss of anxiousness.  So I just block them out.

I think I’m quite blessed in a way that at the age of 38, I have yet to attend a funeral of a family member.  Though I have always thought that as a strong Christian, I have profound faith in Him, that I’m ready to face death or even bidding eternal farewell to people that I love, I care about.

I have often wondered how or what would the people I know feel, if one day I’m gone.  But the thought has always cut short, not that I have come to the end of my imagination, but rather I stop myself from enduring IN the imagination.

Last year, a fairly important mentor experienced a near death open heart surgery.  There were so many incidents, before, after, in between.  But the only thing I remember the most, was when he said this.  He said, “It was actually a very scary experience, when you know that you may not be wheeled out after you’ve been wheeled in the OT.”  I swear I caught the glimpse of fear in his eyes when he said that.

Even though as a Christian, I believe in the reunion of souls and that our separation is just temporary in this world.  It still saddens me to see people leaving.  I’ve attended funerals of colleagues and friends, where family members wailed and sat motionless, because they lost a dear one.  It is almost unbearable to me because I could feel the pain and the sorrow.

I don’t know whether I should feel more pathetic towards the departed or the left behind.  Slowly, the emotion just rises above me and engulf me in total wrecks that I could hardly bear another moment, ‘feeling’.

I watched how the rough sea impeded the search and rescue of QZ8501.  I saw the debris they pulled out from the sea.  I imagined how the family members have to identify the decomposed body or their belongings of their lost love.  It is just so, sad, beyond words.

I wish I could say more, like I want to dedicate a poem, say a prayer, post a status update, or like now, write a blog post.  But deep inside, I know there is no word for departure in my world.  It paralyses me even just the thought of it.  I may think I’m ready and tough; I just have to rethink.

May the departed rest in peace; and to the left behind, peace be with you.

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