Another goodbye.
It seems like every time I'm back on this blog, somebody has died.
It's true — my colleague is dead.
But contrary to what we all thought, it wasn't the cancer that killed her — not directly. She passed away after taken off life-support, which she needed because of the cardiac arrest's side effect that occured after she choked on food. She choked on food easily because of the cancer.
I didn't feel much honestly, when I first received the news. Was it too sudden? Was it because I expected it because of how unwell she seemed to be from the sliver of information we were able to get occasionally from her husband? Maybe it just didn't feel real until I actually stood before her altar at the funeral, and I cried as I lit an incense stick for her (and burnt my self a little in the process 'cause I didn't notice the other incense sticks — noob).
I think it's the first time I've ever been at a funeral of someone I directly and frequently interacted with. In fact, we went on a company trip together and bunked together in the same hotel room! Unfortunately, I never seem to be able to say "Oh, I knew this person really well — she/he was such a dear" about the person whom I'm at a funeral for — or is that a good thing? But it doesn't discount the fact that it's a loss that I feel more personally than others.
Even so, I still feel equally...empty? Like how I've felt about past losses. Perhaps movies and dramas have made me expect each death to be filled with dramatic weeping and very visible signs of grief, when in fact it's a much more subtle carving of our hearts.
Her husband and son shared with us about her last moments, and recounted the bold things she had (always) been saying — Maybe this is how I'll die; I don't want to be on life support; I'll rather die in my sleep. According to her husband, she had been trying her best to fulfil her work duties all the way until even the recent weeks before she passed on. Not even considering the amount of pain she must have been in, she's really an admirable and strong lady.
I'm so happy she's relieved of the pain and suffering. If not being able to see, talk, interact with her is the price to pay for her peace, I'm sure her family would choose to pay it.
I'm happy her wishes were kept and that she's lived a fulfilling and inspiring life.
Please be at peace.
It's true — my colleague is dead.
But contrary to what we all thought, it wasn't the cancer that killed her — not directly. She passed away after taken off life-support, which she needed because of the cardiac arrest's side effect that occured after she choked on food. She choked on food easily because of the cancer.
I didn't feel much honestly, when I first received the news. Was it too sudden? Was it because I expected it because of how unwell she seemed to be from the sliver of information we were able to get occasionally from her husband? Maybe it just didn't feel real until I actually stood before her altar at the funeral, and I cried as I lit an incense stick for her (and burnt my self a little in the process 'cause I didn't notice the other incense sticks — noob).
I think it's the first time I've ever been at a funeral of someone I directly and frequently interacted with. In fact, we went on a company trip together and bunked together in the same hotel room! Unfortunately, I never seem to be able to say "Oh, I knew this person really well — she/he was such a dear" about the person whom I'm at a funeral for — or is that a good thing? But it doesn't discount the fact that it's a loss that I feel more personally than others.
Even so, I still feel equally...empty? Like how I've felt about past losses. Perhaps movies and dramas have made me expect each death to be filled with dramatic weeping and very visible signs of grief, when in fact it's a much more subtle carving of our hearts.
Her husband and son shared with us about her last moments, and recounted the bold things she had (always) been saying — Maybe this is how I'll die; I don't want to be on life support; I'll rather die in my sleep. According to her husband, she had been trying her best to fulfil her work duties all the way until even the recent weeks before she passed on. Not even considering the amount of pain she must have been in, she's really an admirable and strong lady.
I'm so happy she's relieved of the pain and suffering. If not being able to see, talk, interact with her is the price to pay for her peace, I'm sure her family would choose to pay it.
I'm happy her wishes were kept and that she's lived a fulfilling and inspiring life.
Please be at peace.
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