Thoughts at a Funeral

My cousin's husband passed away last Friday evening. He just collapsed and died. Just like that. There were no signs, no warning, nothing. One moment he was talking about his work, and the next moment he was down on the floor in convulsions. He died an hour later in hospital. He didn't have a chance in hell. His heart just chose to collapse on him. And in that moment, the happy world as he knew it, collapsed around him, into inky blackness. He was only 29. He had just gotten married. He had a wife who absolutely adored him. He had many many good friends. He was a good man. He was fit and healthy and exercised often. But none of these things could prevent what happened to him, from happening.

His death set me thinking. I was angry. Angry that this young man didn't even have a chance in hell. There was absolutely nothing he could do to have stopped this from happening. At a single stroke, a young wife is left a widow, and his aged parents left childless. There's no justice in that is there? Most of all, i'm angry at my own helplessness. I didn't have the ability or capacity to comfort or to make things better for anybody. If I had taken the time to get to know the young man and my cousin, I can at least be a source of strength to her now. But right now I can't even do anything for a person I cared about.

The worst thing to be is to be weak when strength is needed; to be incapacitated when there is a need. When my father passed away, I couldn't do anything about it because I didn't even know he was dying. (Thank goodness my mum recovered well from his death!) The same sense of helplessness struck me at that time, and I was determined to never be weak when there was a need ever again. I must make sure I become a strong tree, in whose shade others could come to seek shelter and rest.

This time round, I felt helpless because I was not close enough to the family to be of help, through no fault of anybody but my own. Even though my cousin and I had grown up together, my aloofness distant me from her and her family. In my heart of hearts, I cared about them of course, but that sort of hidden emotion is of no use to anybody in times of crises. The lesson learnt this time, I will shed my aloofness and reach out to the people around me. It takes time. It takes effort. It goes against my very person to bare my heart to people around me. But if this is what it takes to make the world a wee bit better, it's what I'll try my darnest to do!