In another 2 weeks, there'll be fireworks and rejoicing as another year comes to an end and another new one begins. Ever wondered if this is your last Auld Lang Syne?
Today marks Ma's 32 th anniversary. Seems like yesterday when we were at the funeral parlour, running around and wondering why was everyone so sombre. We knew something terrible had happened, but as kids, it was difficult to know how ma's death would impact us.
I was eight then, while Kor was 11, little Sum just turned 6 and Ping was just a baby of 2. Did I grow up overnight, being Big Sister? Or did I get caught in a time warp, forever trapped in that fateful moment of losing ma? Because since then, death has become a shadow that haunted me. I grew up believing I'd be next. Of course, everyone dies someday, but I thought I knew when my time would be- 1994.
Why 1994? The child back then made some calculations - apparently my grandmother died at the tender age of 30, while my ma died at 32. It sounds ridiculous now (since I safely survived that age), but my 8-year-old mind back then firmly concluded that my turn would be at 34.
This has resulted in both good and bad repercussions, of course. Knowing (or guessing ) that my days were numbered made me critically aware of passing time. With each year, I asked myself if I'd fulfilled my resolutions, whether I'm better off than the year before. It became a mad race- against myself.
So it came to be that I embraced carpe diem as my life philosophy. I got married young and had children quickly, thinking or fearing that if I didn't, I'd miss out on the chance to experience what was touted as a woman's rite of passage. And I bought my first house, car, insurance plans, etc early...believing that if I didn't, I might never have the chance later.
2004 was a year of much apprehension. I left careful instructions with my husband and children every time I left for a trip, always thinking I might not come back alive. Yet I always did.
And so my 34th year passed me by uneventfully. So did my 34th, 35th, 36th birthdays....till today. At 40 this year, I've even stopped counting. Why bother? I almost feel like Superwoman, ready to do the things I never did, ready to save the world!
Yet, it all came back to me today when I heard about a friend, Anna B's passing. We went to her house in Ampang this morning, only to find that they have left for the burial ground in Seremban. Suddenly I'm reminded of my earlier days, the countdown syndrome I used to have. Could it be that I lived a more meaningful life when I thought my days were numbered?
Perhaps I forgave faster? Or was kinder in my thoughts and deeds? Or had better priorities? Or injected more passion into whatever I did? Or spent more time with people and things that mattered?
In the last few years, I've even developed the tendency to think/say 'This can wait'. Like calling Anna B during this year's Hari Raya if I'd known it was her last. Like visiting her family last night instead of waiting till this morning. Like sending an email to someone to say I forgive him/her. Like writing this blog so that others can read, learn, laugh or cry. How much time DO I have?
I asked MM, a close friend who has worked at hospitals for the last 2 decades, whether she feels people will live better lives if they knew their days were numbered. Surprisingly, she disagreed. "I see it all the time. Cancer patients who've been given a time frame tend to focus more on dying than living the best of their remaining days. It's human nature," she said.
Just live each day as if it was your last, she said. Make everyday a countdown. Make everyday matter.
I'm going to sleep over that thought tonight. Ma and Anna B, may you both rest in peace.
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