Death is evident

It has been 3 weeks since knowing that one of my secondary schoolmate died. It took me quite some time to discuss it in public. "It" refers to death, the last stage of our life cycle. When I was younger, death seems so abstract, so hard to believe. I thought death only appeared in movies or television. I had not experienced death for the first thirteen years of my life, never even been to a proper funeral and witness its proceedings. Never know how the dead people look. I had a quite perfect family whereby the fact that all my family members remained well and healthy. All that so-called perfect image turned into disaster, when I was greeted with death on a Sunday morning.

I saw my father, lying motionless, not moving a bit. Thinking that he just passed out, I tried out my First Aid skills. I was only thirteen then, so it wasn't a perfect start. Attempts of trying to bring him back to life only turned out to be failure, because my mom only woke me up, half an hour after he lay unconcious. There is no way that I could bring him back alive. At that moment, I blamed my mother, had she had the same knowledge as I did, she would have had the sense to wake me up straightaway. But it is all too late. My father has left the world.

I felt as if my whole world crumbled seeing his lifeless body, and knowing that what I did could not bring him to life. The energy was wasted, what more when I broke down. I was living in a trauma, so badly, that I couldn't go upstairs to have a good look at his body, only dare to do so after he was placed in a casket. I witnessed the whole family collapse. Everyone bringing their tear-stained face to see my father. Suddenly, I don't see a perfect family anymore. My paternal relatives were an embarassing lot, all not knowing how to face death or even able to talk out of it. They made the whole situation worse, as if trying to make the pain even more evident. When my paternal grandmother puts unknown accusations on our family, it spelled the end of our harmonious ties. I resent them now for their selfishness and childish acts.

Since then, I couldn't look at death the same way again. I view it as a cruel and heartless way of separation. Death occurs just anywhere. Unavoidable at times. If it really happens, strangers react first, if the dead is a victim of crime. I wonder why do the strangers screamed at the sight of the body. Is it because of fear? What do they fear in the dead? And the loved ones. They cry at the sight of death. Why do they cry? Is it because of death, or how they died?

"Just let it all out, you'll feel better that way"

That was what my friend said when they were around when I got to know of the news of my schoolmate's passing. Will crying really reflect what I felt inside? Will it actually release the grief inside? I couldn't really cry much because I had little memories with my schoolmate. A friend of 5 years, he rarely talks yet he tries to blend in the crowd. I only knew him because we were involved in the same society. Later on we became classmates. I know of his area of interests, in fact, I was one of the few who talked quite some with him. However, I was being a black sheep, and not many liked me. So in order to please the majority, I gave all my time trying to please them, ignoring him who had been sitting by my side. The last time that I actually talked to him was on friendster, that he invited me to join his college's Bon Odori festival, I politely declined his offer, with the assignments piling up at my side. Now, I wished I could have accepted it.

"Of course we have the right to complain, since we lost someone precious in our lives"

That was what my guardian angel said yesterday, albeit jokingly. None that I could think of to reply him back. I don't know if I want to put my father's death as a shield to gain sympathy anymore. For applying scholarships, for unknowingly being centre of the crowd, for being depressed, for crying. So many kinds of privileges, I always used my father's death as the reason. But later on the privilege turned into a burden. When I see my paternal relatives' ugly faces, everytime they asked us about our well-being, with intention to feel pity for us. I feel disgusted visiting them, sometimes disgusted with myself when I use my situation to actually make the whole atmosphere lost its temperature. Countless times my friendship was nearly severed. I always thought that people complain even though they have the best things in the world was stupid because I never really complain, but thinking of what my guardian angel said, do I really want to complain now?

I will face death sooner or later. I have had two deaths involving people who had an impact in my life. To my father, thank you for being a really awful fellow, who smokes, drinks, gambles, and spending my education fund down the drain, for I learn to hate you, not follow in your footsteps, and not to choose a man like you. To my schoolmate, thank you for being considerate, to send me Chinese New Year cards despite all the stupid rumours of you liking me, for letting me listen to you, and to tell me what you haven't been telling others, for I learn to appreciate good memories and friends now. I will miss the FRIM trip more often now.

"It's painful to let go I know, but at the very least you have accepted his death"

I hope you are right my angel.