Saturday, August 8, 2009

My dragonfly

The two men are having their meals. They're wearing the same attire; uniforms, white short-sleeved shirt with flying wings and badges on their shoulders, tie and black pants. Papa used to wear them too, but without those ranks, I fondly recalled. He was buried dressed in his uniform and his blazer... Cardiac arrest after his trip from Osaka had taken him away from me. It happened three years ago and... it's not so painful now, but still... sometimes I wonder what would happen if he was still with us. I would always be his princess... whom he'd always proud of. I grew up with touches and kisses from my parents, I used to sit on his lap even until I was a university student. But I know, to recover from my wounds that he caused after his betrayal to my mum, it takes way a long time... To heal my misbeliefs about men, even about myself. And God's been graciously and patiently working in me. I suddenly realized that one of the two men is staring back at me. I quickly looked away and made my move to the waiting lounge, for my flight that will take me out of the hectic Singapore for several days. I am only enabled to watch HBO movies on two conditions: I am hospitalized and I stay overnight at hotels. Haha. We have cable here at our apartment, but my flatmates decided to only order Mandarin channels -- while I'm more into Hollywood. Haha. Well, I seldom watch TV anyway, so I don't mind with that. In Dragonfly movie, Kevin Costner is a grieving doctor who lost his wife in a bus accident, deep in the forested areas in Venezuela where his doctor wife has been volunteering helping the people there. He tried to cope with his loss, just the same like I did. He worked 24hr a day, 7 day a week like crazy after her passing. Yet his boss asked him again and again to take a couple of month leave, because he needs to grieve. Maybe I never really took my time to grieve... I initally thought SG is a good place to swallow all my grief, but maybe I should've taken my time to cry and to lament over his passing. I know that we need to be present and not to embrace the past. Yet the sorrow still keeps coming back each time I look at the pictures, taken on his funeral service. Thank You, for this grief, Lord.

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