Remembering

There was a time when I sat by myself and wondering what would I be missing most when I die. I wonder how is it going to be when I am not living anymore. I looked at my surroundings and ponder at the idea of them changing without me to witness. I look at my room and wonder who would be taking over all my belongings. Who would be using my mini disc, my palmtop and all my other favourite electronic gadgets? What would happen to my computer, which contains so much of my personal secrets? Who would update my homepage and would anyone be missing me when I am gone? I can only wonder.

I have never cried in front of people except for a few whom I would consider to be close to me. I simply hate people to see me cry not even my family members. I am not very comfortable expressing my affections and emotions openly. I am not good at it. One by one by grandparent passed away and I stood there just staring at the corpse without feeling any sadness. I didn’t have to fight back those tears they just didn’t come out. No tears were shed probably because I wasn’t close to my grandparents and how could I get fond of them when I am not close to them? I grew up in a family with more men than women and I guess this contributes a lot to my characteristics. I have grown to be a Pig headed and an individualistic youth. Thankfully, I am not pompous or self-centred.

I have loved and been loved before and I treasure every single person that has come into my life. They are all special people that have touched my hearts in any way they can. Each one of them is equipped with their own characteristics that make them different from the rest. They are funny, bold, gentle, strong and timid. With the different attitudes and personalities, they add spices to my life. Knowing them has made me become appreciative of friendships. Every friend I have made along the way will always be remembered. I do not pray everyday but during the times I pray, I never left them out. I make it a habit to pray for all the friends I have had and the people I love. I pray for their safety, I pray for their happiness and I pray for them to have good health.

I scroll down the list of phone numbers in my mobile and I read the names one after another. I remember all the things I do and all the things I say to them. I reminisce at the good times my friends and I share. I laughed a bit and I giggled at some silly but memorable escapades with them. I remember how a friend accompanied me from evening to morning the next day outside because I was too afraid to come home. I remember how another friend helped sent me to the hospital when I broke my wrist. I remember how a friend treated me so good whenever I put up at her house. I remember how a friend made me feel so nervous because she is the prettiest friend I have ever had. I remember the time we spent together and I can still feel the sensations when she ran her fingers through my hair. I remember a friend who made me come all the way to Kuala Lumpur because I just wanted to make sure she is fine and she sent me a post card while having her holiday in Bali. I remember a friend who came to Singapore to apologise for some wrongs she thinks she commits. That overwhelmed me. I remember everything, good or bad I remember them all. I remember a friend who never stops making me laughs by her silliest and spontaneous attitude. I remember a friend who never fails to accompany me to skate every Sunday morning loyally and another friend who always make me feel special and wanted. I remember a friend who accommodated me when I ran away from home. I love all of them. I appreciate and I treasure them. Some of these friends have long gone from my life; they just vanish and disappear. They are probably busy with their own life and got no time to be sentimental like I do. Maybe they think it is a waste of time to be thinking like how I do. Some people don’t want to get all mushy do they? A friend laughs at my thoughts and asked me what’s the moral of the story at the end of my writings? I laughed at her question and smiled at her ignorance and lack of sentimental values. She is a close buddy and we tease and make fun of each other all the time until the playful teasing doesn’t hurt anymore. Nevertheless, I still think of my friends near or far, wherever they are occasionally. I hope and wish that they were fine.

Friends come and go in our lives just like the waitress in cafes and restaurants. They move on in search of better careers and opportunities. I come and go in people’s lives too but I will always remember my time spent with them and the time they spent with me. I will not forget the things that we have done and the bonds we have created together as friends. Not many people would leave an impression of a lifetime in our lives but we remember the people who have in a place reserved in our hearts. I believe that.

I have told a friend that we cannot forget what and whom we have known. We simply can’t because how can we forget things and events that have left such an impact in our lives? If it was a bad experience and we have forgiven it, that doesn’t mean we will forget. Even how hard we try we just can’t. Those significant events in our lives are remembered till the day we die. They become our histories and they add on to our life stories. They become our experiences waiting to be recollected. We would probably tell these stories to our children and our children’s children.

We forgive and we forget but I do not think that is applicable to most people. Forgiving doesn’t mean we will forget and remembering doesn’t mean we never forgive. There is nothing wrong to remember after we have forgiven because it is only natural to do that but let us not forget what is the point of forgiving if we are still remembering with contempt?

We must remember it in a positive way so that we do not allow ourselves to repeat the mistakes people have done to us. My point is clear; it is essential to remember without any hatred, bigotry and grudges. We meet new people and we go places and eventually the new people we meet will remind us of someone we used to know. The places we go will remind us of some things which we have done together with someone else. We basically cannot escape from remembering. It’s in our blood and it’s the norm and if we have to remember it, please remembers it sincerely.

I know by now I would be missing those little events with my friends. I would be missing the phone calls; I would be missing the chat conversations I have had with them. I would be missing those outings we had. I would be missing reading their emails, letters or cards of joy and sadness. I would be missing taking a ride in their cars and honking at the beautiful babes on the streets. I would be missing their short messages on my mobile (sms). I would be missing everything about them. To watch my friends grow old is the thing I would be missing most. I would never have the chance to see them laugh with joy and I will not have the opportunity to give them hugs of confidence anymore. I will not be there to remind them to drive safely and to take care of themselves. Most importantly I am not able to be there with them when they need comfort.

Have you ever thought of that? You get worried not because of what you may be facing in the after life but what worried you most is how the people whom survived you cope with your death. You worry if you have done enough to make them happy. You start thinking if what you have left sufficed for them to get over it. You did your calculations at how much it will benefit your family from all the insurance plans you have taken and decide if it is adequate for them. I wonder if I am crazy to be thinking to that extent at times but I can’t help it. Can anyone of you tell me if I am weird? Is what I am thinking normal or abnormal?

I write because I wanted to. I wanted to share my thoughts with people I have known. I wanted to leave something for them. My greatest fear is to have somebody whom I adore and love passed away without giving me the opportunity to be close and care about her. It doesn’t matter whom; acquaintances or good friends; one who speaks good or bad English or one who doesn’t speak English at all, it just doesn’t matter. I want to reach out to every friend I have made while I can without expecting anything in return. It is enough to know that this humble thought of mine has reached their mailbox safely. At least I know they are well enough to be checking their emails and nothing bad has happened to them and that makes me happy and less worried. I wanted my thoughts to uplift me even when I die. To the people I love, at least they know what I desired and wished for. I hope to give them strengths, motivations, moral support and some piece of my mind to go on with life even when they hit rock bottom. I want to give them something that enables them to be strong for themselves. I want them to hear my voice through my writings. I still want to be there with them even though I am gone. If I can’t be there physically, let me be there in writings at least. They can feel and say all they want. I exist in my writings because I write passionately every time I write. That is all I ever wanted. The moral of my thoughts are at the discretion of the readers. I set no limitations to one’s point of views and opinions; I seek for none but I welcome any constructive criticism.

There is a box stored in my wardrobe, which I occasionally open and look at the contents whenever I am feeling down and missing my friends. In it are all the cards, photos and presents I have received from friends over the years. I arranged them nicely vertically in the box. I touched those cards gently. I read them one after another, word by word trying to the best of my ability appreciating the meaning behind those words. I analysed the hand made cards given to me. I looked at the workmanship and I began to feel blessed. I understand now that everything we do is all about the efforts we have invested in. Investing does not denote money. All it takes is just pure sincerity.

I looked at the photos my friends gave me and which I took with them. The smiles and expressions we had on our faces. The many stories a picture can tell. I remember all of it. It made me feel good and honoured. It made me feel touched and contented. For all the wrongs I have made I know there must be some good I have done to deserve such gifts of good friends and I will be remembering them till my time is up for they have left footprints in my heart.