No relief

It's been a month since my sis' suicide. There's little relief from knowing the truth. Time will never heal my wound, only in death and finally reuniting with her in our Heavenly kingdom when our Father has called me home, will my wound truly heal. It sounds hopeless but it is also true. I just have to live with that.

They say the truth will set you free, but sometimes it hurts. It hurts so much you forgot how to live, to breath, to function. I've never stopped thinking of her, and I don't really want to. I need to feel as if she's still here, in my memories, through my reminiscing. I'm not ready to move on, to let go. I'm taking my time, bidding goodbye, saying I love yous, too many missed opportunities of hugging her (because she hates to be touched or hugged affectionately).

Mummy seems to be at peace with the knowledge you're gone, mei. From what I can glean from facebook. Maybe that's the only relief I have. But sometimes I'm not so sure if it's really so, or is she trying to put up a brave front for friends and relatives who are concerned about her. Knowing mummy, I feel it's a mixture of both. I see sadness in her eyes sometimes when she's watching me and Beth, I know she misses you and wishes to see you play with Beth again.

Papa as usual is still annoying as always, and I wish you're still around to share the inside jokes with. All our family jokes, gone with the wind, just like you. But I know you can't stand him and is happier where you are :)

One day, you're gonna tell me exactly what happened and I'm going to be there for you this time. Or perhaps, it wouldn't have mattered by the time my business is done here on earth and we'd have eternity to catch up.

For now, I have a family to run and some babies to make. We're expanding our family and I do still wish you're around to contribute cousins for your niece and future nieces and nephews but it's okay, Jie will help you fill the gaps in our lives because you deserve only the very best effort from all of us.

Love you always mei mei xoxo

Therapy with Nick

I haven't been entirely clear when I say I'm in therapy for grief and loss. Truth is, the differences between Nick and I got even more apparent during my grieving process, and finally decided to rear it's ugly head once and for all.

I don't really know what to blame on except that it's a personality related differences. In the time I've known him, I've embraced and accepted many of his flaws, just as I have accepted and loved him.

This time around, the love I had for him wasn't enough. I needed more, I really really do. I am vulnerable and wasn't going to act tough about it. I needed loving, I needed him to be the gracious one. I didn't need fixing, which was what he was good at. I needed a compassionate husband who was supportive and sensitive. All of which he wasn't, because personality.

The first session was very productive. The counsellor wanted to know what were the qualities that draw us to each other. Easy. Honesty, faithfulness and God-loving. These were the 3 traits I consistently prayed for in my future partner, and I got it when I met Nick.

Apparently, apart from looks, Nick fell for my character. To be more specific, he actually named my decision making skills as a top quality. Something I didn't know contributed so much to my indispensability. Again, personality. We are as different as day and night.

I thought it was very sweet when he gave examples. I liked how he explained it "She could help me analyse and break it down for me into very easily digestible ideas that I could just implement and run with it." Not his exact words but it is what I hear.

At one point, it was my turn to air grievances and I specifically said Nick needs to be more sensitive to my feelings yet he can't help himself when he feels a need to cut me down with his words, to just call me out on it. To add on, if there's nothing nice to say, he could have just kept quiet. If there's a need to say it, it should at least be constructive.

I honestly thought that was it. Until the counsellor wisely reminded me of the traits I saw in Nick; Honesty.

Wow. All this time it was staring at me in my face.

It was a huge revelation. I felt like a hypocrite.

My takeaway: We are trying to cut out some brutish words we both dislike from my vocabulary. Namely replacing it with Oh Dear, Oh Gosh, good old British words instead of well, you know, the more expressive versions that starts with F and S.

His takeaway: No more labelling me as stupid/dumb. No more passive aggressive unloving expressions like "你在等什么?". Nick was justifying his use of the words by saying he meant them when he uses it because he's using it consciously and sparingly. Insert roll eyes please. 

Instead, our counsellor taught him to break the momentum if he's so angry he feels the need to say it, and reminded him what Jesus would have done, would He have called us stupid/dumb? Her method was to cut through the quarrel by projecting or repeating a phrase such as "Jesus loves you!" Well, they say fight hatred with love and smother your enemies in them. Love always conquer. I have yet to see love fail so I have to agree with the counsellor on this.

Counselling can only take us this far, the rest is still up to us to make it work. The counsellor noted we've a strong foundation which we both know to be true, the only reason we needed help and didn't mind sharing with outsiders can only be because we both want the same thing: Our marriage to be unbreakable and indestructible.

We don't wait for things to turn rocky before we save a marriage, we do it while it's still strong and firm. An intact vase can take a few knocks, but a cracked one can hardly withstand a breath of wind. This is my philosophy for many things in life, we don't wait for the worst to happen before we deal with something.

This form of therapy is my kinda project for dealing with grief and loss. This is what works for me.

Grief

I was 19 when I grieved the first time for my beloved gramps. According to my mum who was by her side when she drew her last breath, she passed away peacefully. I didn't get to see her for the last time and only knew through a phonecall with my mum late at night. I was getting ready for bed when I received the call. I couldn't sleep after that but I remembered I was so tired I cried myself to sleep.

The funeral was a blur. Both my mum and sis were distraught, and blamed themselves for not being more filial or spend more time with her. I remembered consoling my mum with words I didn't know I had to make her feel better, to take away her guilt. I hugged my sis when she broke down infront of me and cried sorrowfully into my arms. You see, my gramps had dementia and it wasn't easy living with her. In fact, the gramps I dearly loved was already consumed by advanced stages of dementia and was a shell of whom I used to know.

I saw her a couple of days before her passing, interacted and chatted with her affectionately, never once did it cross my mind that'd be the last time I'd see her. A good buddy of mine knew about my situation and advised me to be strong for my family. I knew I had to and suppressed my grief. It was the worst thing I did for myself. Strangely, I was able to hold myself together until the very last day where I nearly fainted from exhaustion. Even more strange was that I had no outward signs of grief eg self blame, anger, denial, not even sadness. I don't recall feeling anything else after the initial shock and tears.

It was year 2003 and I was in Poly, ironically, my gramps passed away on my mum's birthday, 26 December. We visited her again when we collected Mabel's ashes. 15 years on, I'm still grieving for my gramps. I still cry fresh tears as if she had just passed away not too long ago. Suppressing my grief back then, in order to be strong for my family, was the worst thing I could do for myself. I never truly moved on, and till now, I am still circling through the cycle of grief (Denial > Anger > Sadness > Bargaining > Acceptance).

News of Mabel's death knocked the wind out of me. I remember feeling numbed when I first got the news, and an emptiness where my heart used to be, has been replaced by a huge rock, which sank to my stomach. That dreadful heaviness in the pit of my stomach is so unbearable that it manifested into stomach pains. Whenever I think of my sis, that heavy stone in my stomach appears. I suspect it'll never truly go away.

I allowed myself to grief. I didn't hold back this time, I grieved with everything I've got. It was a culmination of things. My gramps, and my sis, both worth their weight in gold to me. Both gone now. Their loss rang so loud i couldn't hear anything else, it drowned out everything around me. I neglected Beth, my beautiful daughter. I neglected Nick, my lovely husband. I neglected my health.

This body of mine is more hardy than I know. Despite the abuses it has endured, it is still working and functioning well. Grief has taught me to be sensitive to others, to be tactful and compassionate. It is a painful and extremely harsh learning experience. Sometimes that's what it takes to grow up and mature. I lost my favourite gramps and an only sister, but in return I've gained so much more wisdom, love and kindness from the people around me.

All hope is not lost. I know I am blessed, not because of who I am, but because of who He is. I'll keep praying for the salvation of those I love and I know it isn't really goodbye if we will reunite again in Heaven.