Mellon Collie

Although my mood has generally been very good recently, I've become rather melancholy tonight. The reason is because this Wednesday, it will be 4 years since Dad passed away. Passed away still seems like an odd saying - Where has he passed away too? I feel a bit awkward saying "It is the anniversary of my father's death." Actually, is it an anniversary? Are anniversaries only associated with good occasions like in Chinese traditions? Whatever it is, it will be 4 years on Wednesday.

Of course, my mood hasn't been helped by hearing the Street's song "Never Went To Church" which is Mike Skinner's tribute to his own father who died. I caught a glimpse of the video on one of the music channels earlier and thought to myself that I shouldn't really watch it as it will inevitably make me think of my own Dad. Then, in one of them freaky family moments, I got a text message from Q. It read:

"Hi, hope u had a gd bk holiday. Been listening to Street's "Never went 2 church" and thinkin bout Dad. Will b thinking of u all on Weds."

I think that sums it all up, really.

Also, I've been thinking about Karen a fair bit recently too. There have been a smattering of programmes about the Tsunami recently and of course, it brought back a few memories. It then got me thinking of how 2 people who were very close to me have died yet although my reaction in grieving for them both is the same, I grieve for them both in different ways. Of course, one of them is my Dad - one of my closest relatives on this earth and without whom, I wouldn't be here.

The other one of them was someone whom I was close to, and she was (in hindsight) close enough for me to call her my family. Not many of my friends say it, but I sometimes wonder if they think that in my stubborness to not be in a relationship with Karen, I have lost the love of my life. I do wonder that sometimes.. Would things be different if I had agreed to go out with her again? Do I finally realise how good she was to/for me? Then, before I go completely insane, I remind myself that there is no point in thinking like that. I didn't go back out with her, we remained good friends, she went to Sri Lanka with her family for Crimbo, she's never come back. The hardest part in grieving for Karen has been the lack of body or anything physical to prove to me that she's dead. I keep thinking that I'll get a text message from her, or that she'll phone me. Perhaps she got amnesia and has no recollection of her life before at all, and has since set up a new life for herself in Galle. I know, it seems far stretched, but there are times when I'd believe anything - anything except that she's dead.

With Dad, he was sick for a long time so we all knew that he was dying. However, right to the very end, I didn't want to think that he was dying. Even on that last day when every part of his body was failing (his final dialysis was that his fistula had stopped working), YKL and I went to see him and he wasn't at all conscious, I had no idea if he could hear or understand what YKL and I were saying to him. But when we said we were going, he opened his eyes, looked at us both and waved goodbye to us both. I remember the sense of relief and hope because I thought "He's lucid, he's not dying just yet." Still, despite all the warnings and seeing his health deteriorate for so long, his death still came as a shock to the system. Not so much that he died, but the effect that grief takes on you and your body. I've had a lot of public outpourings of grief for Dad, but I've not had so many for Karen. It's not something that I could share easily with people. Of course, I'm writing about it on this blog and it's rather therapeutic. But other than meeting with Karen's friends and extended family a few times, I've not really shared my grief for her with anyone. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I spent my days all sad and weepy, it's more that for 2 important people in my life, I have mourned them in very different ways. I guess that I'm a bit shocked at how given how much I loved Karen, I am not mourning her death as if it was the most devastating blow I have ever been struck by - And that surprises me. I dunno, mebbe it's a sign that I am ready to move on. As people often say to me "It's what Karen would want you to do." On this occasion, I think I will bite my tongue and listen to them..