MELANIE LIM:

Sometimes, in the midst of your crazy, busy world, the unexpected happens— life happens. You lose someone you love. You look at all the photos from barely a year ago and wonder how it is possible to have someone still so alive in your memory be truly gone forever; “How can we ever have a family reunion again?” my cousin asked me rather sadly a few days ago. “It won’t be the same.” I know. There will be too many empty chairs. But life must go on.

Sometimes, in the midst of your crazy, busy world, the unexpected happens—life happens. You lose someone you love. You look at all the photos from barely a year ago and wonder how it is possible to have someone still so alive in your memory be truly gone forever.

“How can we ever have a family reunion again?” my cousin asks me rather sadly a few days ago. “It won’t be the same.” I know. There will be too many empty chairs. But life must go on.

When the priest calls the family to have a last look at a loved one before he or she is finally laid to rest, I don’t really want to look. It breaks my heart to see you lying cold, lifeless and unresponsive. I want my last memory of you to be of joy, laughter and life.

So often I’ve written that I live each day of my life like it is the last, implying I am prepared to die at any time. But the reality is that when I was scheduled for surgery, I realized that while I was resigned to whatever fate awaited me, I did not want to die. At least, not just yet.

I had not had enough time to clean up my desk. I had not had enough time to turn over my tasks. Most importantly, I had not yet written about the greatest love of my life.

I was terrified of going into surgery. My sister, the veteran of surgeries, however, attempted to allay my fears. “What are you afraid of? You won’t be awake. You won’t feel a thing.”

“I don’t like the idea of being put to sleep.” I told her. “I might never wake up.” “Well, in such case,” my sister tells me matter-of-factly, “you won’t know either so there’s really nothing to be afraid of.”

It seemed like a hilarious piece of advice at that time but her simplistic logic strangely comforted me. This was further reaffirmed by another pragmatic sister who said, “Would you rather be shot or stabbed to death? If you have to go, this is a good way to go.”

And so I went into surgery, relatively calm, eerily reassured by the worst scenario of a merciful death. Funnily, my worst nightmare came to life. After an adverse reaction to opioids after surgery, I had some difficulty waking up.

“So, were my prayers at the Carmelite effective?” my cousin asks me during my uncle’s wake. “Oh yes,” I told him. “I woke up, didn’t I?”

On holiday, I like watching the sun rise and set. I like hearing the birds chirping. I like watching the little crabs scurrying. I remember this fabulous place, perched on a cliff, overlooking the ocean. I would wake up at two in the morning and just stare at the waves crashing.

Sometimes, in the midst of your crazy, busy world, the unexpected happens—life happens. You realize you want to see the sun rise and set more often. You realize you still want to hear the sounds of the ocean. You realize you want to scramble up cliffs again.

In the midst of your crazy, busy world, don’t forget to live. Don’t forget to laugh. Most importantly, don’t be afraid to love.