At the wake two days ago, C shared something about her grandfather, my uncle, that struck me as a truism, that when someone dies you actually find yourself loving them more and that the love will continue through the years.
It is a perverse truth that we only realize what someone means to us when we lose that person. The depth of love we feel is intensified partly because we mourn the loss of future opportunities to engage with our loved one and to walk with them in our journey of life. There is also the regret of no longer having any chance to tell them we love them or that we are sorry, to make amends where needed.
Relationships are never perfect, so mingled with the grief is usually the pain of failure on our part to forge a better understanding, a deeper intimacy. We could have tried harder and better to communicate our love, to heal past conflicts, but we didn’t. And now it is no longer possible. Or is it? One phrase from the funeral mass liturgy stuck in my mind earlier today, turning regret into hope. We can all hope to honour the relationship by trying harder with those who are still around us. We can make amends by becoming better people, clothing our personalities and characters with the qualities we so admired in our dearly departed. We can channel the good of the one we lost in our everyday lives, thus enriching and perpetuating the legacy of that person. Thus we can glorify God out of love of Him, and live out the communion of saints here on earth.
So I am once again reminded to demonstrate to my family and those I love how much they mean to me in words and actions: to forgive and forget both imagined and real slights, any tendency to self-absorption, apathy, and to rise above my own prejudices and perceptions to act in love, to the best of my ability. Where brokenness persists, I should let go and allow God to enter the spaces. I cannot fix everything, only He can, so I bow to His superior abilities with gritted teeth, doing my part in humble prayer. I am encouraged to keep purity of heart, poverty of spirit, and be joyful even in times of adversity and chaos.
What was beautiful to witness at the wake was how well regarded and loved my uncle was. As his grandchildren discovered, yeh yeh was a learned and accomplished man who held multiple positions in life and contributed much to the education of Singaporeans. They only knew him as the kind and generous grandfather who tried to teach them Mandarin and calligraphy, who played Cantonese songs or classical music as he ferried them from point to point. He also sought to impart what he thought was important in life, chiefly virtue, faith and perseverance through hard work.
I remember Uncle B as a gentle, humble and jovial man who observed life with a keen eye, never had a bad word for anybody, had a dry sense of humour and loved my aunt with quiet extravagance.
He especially touched my heart during the deaths of my grandmother and my father when he very uncharacteristically came up to me and told me that God would bless me for all I had done. His affirmation both times meant a great deal to me for I knew his sentiment was heartfelt.
I will miss him for his kindliness and bonhomie. Thank you Uncle B for serving God your entire life without fuss or fanfare, for your integrity which is so inspiring and for your unfailing good humour. I remember fondly the times we travelled to Japan and Malacca together with Mummy and Auntie S. Rest well in the Lord’s arms, a just reward for being His good and faithful servant.
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