26.01.16

I felt very still and very empty, the way an eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo. 

"I have some sad news."

Is there a sadder sound than sniffles, as an adult tries his best to explain to 80 kids that one of them is gone, forever?

"Do not blame yourself."

How not to, when Monday ended just like that? How not to, when we were talking about you on Tuesday? How not to, when we were throwing around words so casually, when you were already gone from this world?

"Don't speculate."

What's the use?

"This is a normal reaction to an abnormal situation."

I don't need you to tell me that. A young man is gone. What else can I feel besides numbness?

"Rate how you feel on a scale of ten, 10 being awful and 0 being you feel empty."

Can we truly put a number to how we feel of our teammate ceasing to exist? This is the kind of heartache you can feel in your bones.

"Speak your mind. Share with us. Respect his memory."

70 kids sitting in a circle. I was the third. I was so prepared. I was going to share that I saw his parents on Friday, sitting at the table in front of me, at mushroom cafe. I wanted to tell his parents and his sister that I was so, so, so sorry. No parent should ever have to bury their child.

Thought I could keep the stone face and monotone for twenty minutes more. Turns out I couldn't even get a word out.

"Let me share with you about the different triggers of pain. It can be an anniversary, or a place he frequented, a song he liked. It can be anything."

October, as we celebrate Blim's birthday, we will think of Brendon.

We will return to macritchie on Monday. Too soon. Will we break at the sight of his yellow lifejack? Who will adore the black nelo? What is going to happen?

And when we gym, who is going to plug in the laptop and blast those lyric-less, heavy metal, crazy-ass music? We have no one else to scold for those horrible, cannot-sing-along songs.

But if you ever come back, we won't ever make a sound.

In one moment, you see the strongest people you've ever known crumble.

The first day consisted of tissues, hugs and yogurt.

The first night was hell. Crying is physically and mentally exhausting. Your heart has never been heavier. All you want is to go under the covers, but when you do, you just toss and turn. For a whole hour, you're just willing for the mind to shut down, hoping for the peace sleep may bring. Which it didn't. Even in your dreams, in that misty subconscious mind, he was already gone.

Friday was orientation. All I wanted was to be with the team, not with a bunch of strangers looking for a good time. I wasn't in the mood to remember twenty names for whacko and bang. Thanks Mr Teo, for allowing us to leave early. And thank you Jonathan, for being so sensitive about it. Their actions touched my heart.

We stayed at the wake for several hours. Ate and drank a bit, talked to his dad and uncle, remembered some more things about Brendon, and wrote him letters. I watched everyone who came in to pay their respects, but nothing was harder than looking at the A Boys standing in a line, staring at the coffin of the boy who was once full of life.

Painful as it sounds, it took the passing of one of us to bring this team together. But from that very moment, we knew that we would stay together. Like Nanfeng says, it won't be easy but we will get through this, as long as we do it together. I would never have made it through the past three days without them. The pain is always there, sometimes dull, and when you think it's getting better, it becomes excruciating. But the girls were the antidote. They kept it at bay, but the moment they're gone, your thoughts are suddenly so loud.

In a matter of days, we aged years.

One word kept popping out the past couple of days. Closure.

Have we found it?

There were barely any tears at Mandai. Had I found closure, when we left the casket on Friday? Had I spilled my guts to the point that it has sunk in? Was I all cried out?

I don't know. I truly don't.

"My mind actively avoids it."

"I can't feel anything."

"I don't want to speak to anyone outside of this circle, because they don't understand."

"One moment I think I've accepted it. The next moment, I just can't believe it."

"It hasn't really sunk in yet."

"The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to."

To the Chin family, I cannot imagine the pain that you are experiencing. I pray that you will heal and that the pain will fade with time. You will never be alone and you will always remember the incredible young man you have as a son.

Brendon, wherever you are, I know you are watching over the team and I pray that you are happy and at peace. We will never be the same again but we will be there for each other, every step of the way. You will always be one of us and we will remember you forever. We love you and we will go the distance for you. That's a promise.

Godspeed, Brendon.