SHENAYOGA

Last week, I wrote that nothing bad has happened this year. That very same week our hamster fell very sick suddenly. Pebbles died five days later. Today, we bid goodbye to our 91 years’ old ah gong after a five-day wake.

Two weekends, two deaths. Did I jinx it? Should we never say we are truly happy and fortunate, because it’d be taken away from you right away? Many people echo similar fears. But I digress.

Two evenings ago, I carelessly took this photo of the quiet calming colour of blue while walking to the wake. This morning, as we followed the hearse carrying ah gong’s coffin, I looked up and saw the same calming skies. This time with prayer papers fluttering in the wind, people looking out of windows, big white flag, the backs of relatives young and old — his children, their spouses, grandchildren, great grandchildren. Old neighbours, old friends, his sister. The funeral organisers fending off traffic, keeping us safe.

Naturally, the organisers, us grandchildren and our young ones do not know of the intensity of pains felt by his children and his sister. But here is everyone, walking. Silent. Holding space.

The past five days fleeting questions floated in and out: why are we here, who are these people we meet this life, how are we connected? We’d never know, I guess. For now though, it’s good enough for me to see it (quite literally) that we’re all just walking each other home.