A tribute

There is always a certain profound anguish if someone so special to you, who shares such special memories with you, passes on. Nothing can be compared to this experience-- not failing your Os and As and everything else, not getting retrenched, not not realising your dreams, not failure. Not sickness, not your disease, nothing. It's like a part of your heart has been filled with so much of that person, and suddenly this person's gone, and that part of your heart a void. You cry, you grieve, you know that crying and grieving don't help things a bit. You're helpless.

I remember her holding my small podgy hands, then my long tapered fingers, crossing the main road, always reminding me how the road's dangerous, how I have to take extra care crossing the road. Her hands, sometimes warm, sometimes cold, but I never stopped holding it even after the road was crossed. It was just so natural to hold on.

But I had to let go. I've cried and refused for days. It was so painful. I just didn't wish to do it.

But at my last glance at her peaceful countenance, I knew that nothing's going to change. There was a finality in that look. So I let go. And in my heart, the void of that physical person is once again filled, this time with her spirit and our shared memories, guiding me and accompanying me forever.