Goodbye

The most painful goodbyes are those that are never said, or never explained.

I am still going to struggle with words for a while, but I think I am finally ready.

Just this morning, we saw my Aunt off to the airport. After two and a half weeks, she will return to her family in Canada.

We’ve done this many times before, but the goodbyes never get easier.

I am cognisant of the fact that goodbyes are particularly hard for me. I have reached a point where I am convinced that goodbyes are never forever — just like my time in this world. I am not the most puritanical person but I want to believe in afterlife. Only then will I eventually, reunite with all the people who left before me, the people I never got to say a proper goodbye to. 

The year has been a confusing one so far.

After 18 years, April will now officially reign as the saddest month for many years ahead.

It will begin with mourning the lost of my paternal grandma. Seven months later but the wake remains pretty much fresh in my memory. That is expected, but I know I will eventually come to accept her passing.

In retrospect, what should have been a regular Sunday escalated into a night I will remember for a long time to come. 

Then I will be reminded of Papa, and how I am confined in the blurred memories of him. He is the permanent absence I may never be able to fully accept but I can live contented with the fact that I was born his daughter. 

I will have some good days, and I will definitely struggle on other days.

Finally, the month will close as I remember my maternal grandpa — the only man I have known and loved in a way like no other. My Apupa, as I have always addressed him, was blessed with a peaceful passing. He slipped away slowly in his sleep, and didn’t even wait for us to arrive before he left. An impatient one, he is. 

It is strange how I remember vividly moments like that — moments I lose the people I love — but can't (for the life of me) recall fond memories as easily. 

It is true that the most painful goodbyes are the ones never said or explained. It is the ones I never got to say to my grandparents, to Papa. It is the ones I will remember most — only because I have rehearsed them over and over again in my mind.

But it is okay.

I am okay. 

In the afterlife, I will get another chance.