It's been barely a day since he passed away and you might think it's inappropriate for me to be writing this too early seeing as his grave would probably still be fresh from the burial yesterday. Maybe that is right but being far from my family, writing things down seems to be the only way for me to mourn, grieve and celebrate the passing of this great man, my uncle.
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| my uncle and his youngest two years ago when I first flew to the UK |
I mourn not his untimely demise but the wrong choice he had made in his life. Again, it might be distasteful for me to reveal that he died of lung cancer as a result of his smoking habit but every coin has two sides so I might as well get the ugly truth out of the way as soon as I can. Hopefully, in my mourning, those close to me and those who read this will realise the brunt of smoking and its devastating power of burning a hole not only in the pockets of those who smoke but also in the hearts of those left behind in their demise.
For in his untimely demise, my uncle left behind a frail old mother, a heartbroken wife, five children, four brothers and sisters, well over ten nieces and nephews - an entire family.
So I grieve for his frail, old mother, my grandmother, who is now one son less to look after her and to care for her and to rely on in times of need. I grieve for the fact that my grandmother would never again see her son who used to frequently spend his lunch time to visit her and bringing her food ever since she had had a stroke around 5 years ago. It must break my grandmother's heart to have to bury her own son for no parents should bury their own children.
And I grieve for my uncle's wife who now has to live without the love of her life, raising their five children, the eternal signs of their love that will continue to live on, on her own. And I grieve for his children, my cousins, who now have to cope with an immeasurable sadness I'm not sure they can understand. Never again would their father walk through the door bringing treats or their favourite food. Never again would they get to kiss their old man's hand in the morning before they go to school.
And I grieve for my mother and her remaining brothers and sister for they've lost a great brother and a great friend. Being the middle child, my uncle certainly fit well in the role of a mediator and a voice of reason whenever arguments ensued in between them. And now my mother will not have his favourite brother to turn to whenever she needs to spill her heart out.
And I grieve for my siblings, my cousins and for myself for we all have lost a great uncle who was always generous with advice and anecdotes about life. He would often advise us all to lead a good life, much better than how he had lived his, and not to waste it all.
And I personally grieve for his untimely demise as I couldn't be there in times of his suffering to comfort him, or at his deathbed to say my final goodbye, or at his burial to hold the hands of my cousins to provide them what little support I could give in the event of their father's death. I grieve for the fact that I could barely remember the last time I ever saw him and the things we talked about. I was last home back in summer 2009 and I could only remember flicker of moments when he climbed the mango trees at my home plucking the ripening mangoes before he threw them to me as I waited on the ground to catch them. I grieve for the fact that never again will I get the chance to go fishing with him. I grieve for the fact that I will never again get to see the man in the photo smile the way he did. And for that grieve, I cried, and would still cry, at the thought of his demise.
As I cried talking to my mother on the phone, she comforted me, in the away that any child needs to be comforted, by saying that God loved my uncle more and while I should take some time grieving and crying to let it all out, I'd eventually have to accept his passing. The good does die young. And my uncle was extremely young and for that I grieve his sudden demise.
But grieving is disasterous if we all forget the true meaning of death for only in dying we've all truly lived and and as sad as it is to accept the fact that my uncle has now gone to meet his creator, I celebrate the full life he had lived, no matter how short it had been.
I celebrate my uncle the great son who was ever loyal to both his parents, who never let the hustle and bustle of the so-called working life distracts him from his responsibility to his parents. I celebrate my uncle the great husband and father who was ever loving and caring to his household, who always put the needs of his wife and children above his own. I celebrate my uncle the great brother who was ever reliable to his siblings, who was ever present and ready to extend his help despite his own personal problems. I celebrate my uncle the great uncle who was ever kind to all his nieces and nephews, who was always generous in any ways possible just like the exemplary and ideal uncle one would normally read or see in novels or movies.
I will always remember this man as the person who taught me about patience as we once stood in the water of Bagan Lalang beach each holding a fishing rod, and the true elation of perseverance when I felt the tug at the rod I was holding, the joy of success as I spun the reel to retrieve the line with a wriggling white fish at the end of it, and compassion as my uncle unhooked the fish to let it swim back into the deep water.
So went a great man passing into a completely different world, a much better one certainly. And knowing him, he would certainly want all of us, his family, to keep on living for he'll continue to live with all of us, burning bright in all the memories of him we are left with.
'Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still. For they must needs be present, that love and live in that which is omnipresent. In this divine glass, they see face to face; and their converse is free, as well as pure. This is the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die, yet their friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever present, because immortal.' - William Penn, More Fruits of Solitude
God bless you, Pak Lang. May you rest in peace. Al-fatihah.
And I grieve for my uncle's wife who now has to live without the love of her life, raising their five children, the eternal signs of their love that will continue to live on, on her own. And I grieve for his children, my cousins, who now have to cope with an immeasurable sadness I'm not sure they can understand. Never again would their father walk through the door bringing treats or their favourite food. Never again would they get to kiss their old man's hand in the morning before they go to school.
And I grieve for my mother and her remaining brothers and sister for they've lost a great brother and a great friend. Being the middle child, my uncle certainly fit well in the role of a mediator and a voice of reason whenever arguments ensued in between them. And now my mother will not have his favourite brother to turn to whenever she needs to spill her heart out.
And I grieve for my siblings, my cousins and for myself for we all have lost a great uncle who was always generous with advice and anecdotes about life. He would often advise us all to lead a good life, much better than how he had lived his, and not to waste it all.
And I personally grieve for his untimely demise as I couldn't be there in times of his suffering to comfort him, or at his deathbed to say my final goodbye, or at his burial to hold the hands of my cousins to provide them what little support I could give in the event of their father's death. I grieve for the fact that I could barely remember the last time I ever saw him and the things we talked about. I was last home back in summer 2009 and I could only remember flicker of moments when he climbed the mango trees at my home plucking the ripening mangoes before he threw them to me as I waited on the ground to catch them. I grieve for the fact that never again will I get the chance to go fishing with him. I grieve for the fact that I will never again get to see the man in the photo smile the way he did. And for that grieve, I cried, and would still cry, at the thought of his demise.
As I cried talking to my mother on the phone, she comforted me, in the away that any child needs to be comforted, by saying that God loved my uncle more and while I should take some time grieving and crying to let it all out, I'd eventually have to accept his passing. The good does die young. And my uncle was extremely young and for that I grieve his sudden demise.
But grieving is disasterous if we all forget the true meaning of death for only in dying we've all truly lived and and as sad as it is to accept the fact that my uncle has now gone to meet his creator, I celebrate the full life he had lived, no matter how short it had been.
I celebrate my uncle the great son who was ever loyal to both his parents, who never let the hustle and bustle of the so-called working life distracts him from his responsibility to his parents. I celebrate my uncle the great husband and father who was ever loving and caring to his household, who always put the needs of his wife and children above his own. I celebrate my uncle the great brother who was ever reliable to his siblings, who was ever present and ready to extend his help despite his own personal problems. I celebrate my uncle the great uncle who was ever kind to all his nieces and nephews, who was always generous in any ways possible just like the exemplary and ideal uncle one would normally read or see in novels or movies.
I will always remember this man as the person who taught me about patience as we once stood in the water of Bagan Lalang beach each holding a fishing rod, and the true elation of perseverance when I felt the tug at the rod I was holding, the joy of success as I spun the reel to retrieve the line with a wriggling white fish at the end of it, and compassion as my uncle unhooked the fish to let it swim back into the deep water.
So went a great man passing into a completely different world, a much better one certainly. And knowing him, he would certainly want all of us, his family, to keep on living for he'll continue to live with all of us, burning bright in all the memories of him we are left with.
'Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still. For they must needs be present, that love and live in that which is omnipresent. In this divine glass, they see face to face; and their converse is free, as well as pure. This is the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die, yet their friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever present, because immortal.' - William Penn, More Fruits of Solitude
God bless you, Pak Lang. May you rest in peace. Al-fatihah.
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