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It's been 19 days since you left us. And it's still very difficult for me to accept that you are no longer around. Everyday, my mind goes back to that one afternoon, 3 months ago, that I spent with you. I had no idea at that time that, it would be my last afternoon with you. Do you remember? We took so many photos and videos on my iPad and you kept saying I was so clever! You are the only one who said I was clever with the iPad.
I'm sorry, Por Por. I haven't at all spent too much time with you. For one, my excuse was always work. Whenever I come back to KL, my schedule is hectically busy. I really regret now. I should've taken the time out to take you to Colmare like I've always wanted to. Or to take you on the commuter train ride. I always told myself that I'd do it on my "next trip" back to KL. Obviously, it is too late now and my heart is in pain thinking about all the lost moments. Thinking about the time that I will never get to spend with you again. I still cannot believe that afternoon was to be my last with you. In a way, I'm glad I had that opportunity. But it is never enough. I think that no matter how much time one has with a loved one, when they are gone, there's always that void. A void that can only heal over time, I guess.
Por Por, many friends and loved ones have offered their condolences. But sometimes, I wonder if they only say things we want to hear. That you are in a better place now, that this is for the better rather than you suffering all alone, that you are reunited with Kung Kung. I mean, who the hell knows, right? Will you be able to tell me? Please? Did you really get to see Kung Kung? Can you tell him that I miss him very much too? Sometimes, I wonder too, if we belief what we hear simply to make ourselves feel better. My mind is seriously doing a number on me. There are days that I believe that you are smiling down on me, hand-in-hand with Kung Kung. And then, there are days that I just am not sure if that is true.
I prayed very hard for you when I found out that your illness had taken a turn for the worse. Both mornings, at the oceanfront of Phuket island, I prayed. And just like my prayers for Kung Kung 19 years ago, it came to nothing. I don't get why, because I thought I was doing so well with my prayers and my faith for the last 2 years. Or was it that you just simply had enough? Were you just too tired to fight on?
I can't imagine how it feels to be immobile and needing help even to do something as simple and as necessary as going to the bathroom. I'm sorry, Por Por. I was never really there to help you through this. I was a coward because I hated seeing you so helpless. In my tiny little head, you were always the Por Por who accompanied me on my first roller-coaster ride when no one else would. The Por Por who made excellent curries and spicy sambal belacan and all the Hakka pork dishes. I just simply hated seeing you so helpless and because there was nothing I could do about it, I blocked it from my head. I didn't want to cry everytime I saw you. And now, I am beating myself up because I am so sorry. Just awfully sorry that I didn't spend more time with you. And it's even too late now to tell you all of these!
The morning I received your bad news, I was shocked because I had just come back from saying my prayers on the beachfront. So, it was hard to believe. I keep going back to the prayers I said that morning. Where did I go wrong?? But since the whole family, yourself included had always brought me up to be a responsible person, I stayed on in Phuket to finish what was promised to the client - which was my presence. On hindsight, the morning when you were ill, just before I left for Phuket, I should've canceled my trip and stayed back in KL. Do you remember? You couldn't recognize anyone else, except me? It breaks my heart too, to know that when you left, you were all alone at the hospital. Were you afraid or were you happy? I should've been there. I should've.
And then your leaving had just got me thinking - you know, I spend a lot of time away from home, my family and loved ones and when I am back in KL, there's a lot of work meetings that I need to attend to and catch up on and families and loved ones are always taken for granted - in other words, not given first priority in my schedule. I do try to allocate more time and more days to be with Mom and Dad, family, etc. But actually, how much time is enough? I don't even know now where to strike the balance. Used to be in my head that everyone will be around forever. Believe you me, that is one of the prayers that I say diligently everyday. Since I know I can't deal with the loss of a loved one well, I had always prayed that everyone lives longer than me. And we both know what happened to my prayers for you :( I swear to you, there must be a whole chapter in Mr.B's teachings that I had failed to understand. I think it's that chapter about detachment.
I don't know, Por Por. I miss you so very much. I just do. Even when you were around, I used to think about you everyday and I would SMS or email Mom or Ah Yee to see how you're getting on. And it pains me now that when I think about you, I actually have no freaking clue how are you really getting on. On certain days, this pain is unbearable. But I guess, just like with Kung Kung and Ah Kung, I will heal, in time. We just don't know when. Do you know?
For now, I understand the concept of these three little words : "Life Goes On." I'm ok. Work is keeping me busy (again, with the work right? But I need it to keep me sane too though some days, I am losing my focus as well) and the good thing is that Mom & Dad are here in Yangon with me. I think I need family around at this moment and I dread to think that they will be leaving in exactly one week's time.
Right now, I need to believe that you WILL get this letter of mine. That you will know what's in my head and in my heart. That you are well, at peace and reunited with Kung Kung. That I would give anything to have one last conversation with you. All that I want to say cannot possibly be said in just one letter alone, Por Por.
I miss you so much, Por Por.
Love,
Eileen
