The Inconvenient Inevitability

The news got through to you.

It is midnight, unnoticed as it is, it is the start of another day. Yet how ironic that it is to be the end for another person's, forever. Eternal nothingness, he has stepped into. Yet no one will accept that. He will live on, at least in our heads, in our memories. He will live on.

Eternal nothingness, as they say.

You pick up the phone, and there it is. It is to be the messenger of death, of one's eternal nothingness. No need to re-read it. No need. You knew it was coming. You expected it, it was only a matter of time. But it did not make it easier. If anything, it made it harder for you.

You drop the phone, and it fades away into irrelevance. The world blurs. You ignore the people in the room as you dash to the toilet. In one quick movement the door is locked and you collapse onto the floor. The tears fall like angels of death, if that would even make sense. It does not. You know it doesn't.

Two in twelve months. Unsurprising now it seems, yet still unwanted. Such an inconvenience, death is. Dreams left unfulfilled, debts left unpaid, love left unexpressed. An inconvenient inevitability. Yet without it, life is worthless. Life would be an irrelevant concept were it not for the existence of death.

Solace is here. Your much needed solace is just right beside you. Unmoving, your solace keeps you warm for the night. Your solace helps you sleep tonight.

Solace in death.

May your death be solace from the pain you fought through to survive.

You fought hard.

Yet death is, an inconvenient inevitability.

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I was better prepared for it last night than I was about twelve months ago. Yet it did not make it any easier. Almost a year on, the tears came again to haunt me.

My grandfather, the late Haji Abdullah bin Hj Bakar, passed away yesterday, 6.15 am. In one year, both my mom's parents have gone. Now I only have one grandparent left.

Again, I found out through my cousin. But this time it's almost forgivable, since my parents called me a few hours after, rather than two weeks after my grandmother's death, and only because I called them to say I found out through my cousin's blog. Almost forgivable.

Nini Laki, you will not be forgotten. You were a strong man. You went through a lot after Nini Bini's death. I remember being in the hospital taking care of you for what was maybe a couple of weeks, and it was only last summer. I would never forget that. It taught me a lot.

You were loved by your sons and daughters, and your grandsons and your granddaughters, and everyone else you knew. And you still are.

This isn't the best eulogy, but it's hard to write something when you're trying to hold back tears.

We love you, Nini Laki. And we love you Nini Bini.

Both of you now gone. But not forgotten.

Signing out

Over and out