Inspiration from my brave wife

Sunday morning. Woke up too early again and shortly after the usual breakfast, the body reminded me of my debt of unrequited sleep. It would be one of those unproductive Sundays again. Nothing much done before we make our way out to Mass at around noon. 

Feeling listless and limp, I slumped lethargically onto my favourite sofa. It is a 2-seater black leather seat in my bedroom where I once shared with Jenny. It was her favourite seat also. She spent many relaxing hours reclining snugly on it, indulging in Korean TV dramas or playing video games on her iPad.

I picked up the iPad and randomly browsed through some past links. Her Facebook account is still active. One can be sceptical about the idea of eternal life, but in these days and age, as far as Facebook presence is concerned we can practically live forever. Immortality in cyberspace. 

Her sister had posted pictures of her niche taken at various remembrance ceremonies – her birthday in June, the first 100 days and more recently on All Soul’s Day. Going back further, there was the shared posting where I first announced her tragic passing on, the day after she died. I had also posted a link to the eulogy I had delivered during her funeral.

It was the hardest speech I have ever made, as shared in my posting.

Reading the eulogy again, tears welled up in my eyes. I noted again one of the lines I had written in conclusion.

"She will forever be alive in my heart and her courage and fortitude that shone so strongly during the months of fighting cancer will guide me and help me to stay strong and deal with the loneliness.”

I suppose writing that eulogy then, it was not hard to crystalize the new reality that was panning out before me. 

I could already gaze into the dismal bleakness that would underscore this next chapter of my remaining life. Long days of loneliness. Days of yearning of happier times gone by and a previous life shared with her.  Things I should have done or should not have done and so on.

And at that point, I knew too that I would need to draw inspiration from my beloved wife who showed so much courage and resilience in fighting the dreaded disease. Right till the end. 

Even as the days ahead were clouded with uncertainty. I knew there will be really low points and I may need to dig deep. To find a source of strength to recover from.

Either that or sink and drown in depression. That would be a shame. A let down to my wife.

Because the hardship of dealing with grief is incomparable to the suffering she had to go through. Likewise, my loss is incomparable to hers. And she fought the good fight till the end. Never giving up.  

My brave wife. I count myself so lucky to have her in my life. The hardy Hakka woman who now sits center-stage in my heart. Hope I can make it comfortable for her, as snug and cozy as her once favorite sofa seat.