Dryxanne’s Confessions

Not so long ago, I sent out an email contained an article about Everyday is A Special Day by Ann Wells of LA Times. It said about not to hold back doing some things coz there is really no need to wait for special moment, that everyday is special and we should do everything like everyday is the last.

I never actually felt how true it was, until it happened to me and it hit me hard.

Last Friday, after overtimed until 4 AM in the morning, after only 4 hours sleep, i was awakened by a phone call with a shocking news, my 4th uncle had passed away that morning. In my dizzy mind, I could only try to call my brothers (who both already knew from my Dad) and my friends to let them know I had to cancel my weekend plan to Bandung.

The next day, I arrived in my hometown. But due to some reasons, I couldnt go straightly to the funeral house to pay my last respect to my uncle. I had to wait until Sunday morning where i came just a little bit late and found the coffin was already sealed and i couldnt see him for the last time. I felt a bit regretful, but to think of it again, I think i would rather remember him as he was few years ago, 8 years ago actually, the last time i saw him, still healthy and strong.

The funeral was heart breaking, seeing his still very young children who knows nothing about their father’s passing, and families with tears. His wife tried to be very strong ( I have to admit, she was very tough, she didnt go hysterical, coz if she did so, she wouldnt be able to touch the coffin for the last time). He was cremated and later the ashes would be sent to a vihara to be kept in a certain place.

My uncle was the one introducing me to music on my early age. I remember he sent me tapes of famous Indonesian singers when i was just 4, and thus planted inside me the love of music. Growing up, I remember we used to watch the tv together especially on music programmes, where we discussed and talked a lot about singers and their songs and their performances and their careers. He used to turn on music every morning when he woke up at 6 AM, and i got so used to all kinds of music he used to listened to. From old Indonesian singers like Pance Pondaag, Betharia Sonatha, Dian Piesesha, Obbie Messakh, even to Batak singers like PanBers, and other Batak singers i dont know their names. He listened to various of music, though he never was a fan of rock or pop western singers like some i liked later.

Growing up, I think we were getting not as close as it had been before. I hated the fact that as i grew older, we never talked about music together anymore. At that time i thought the generation gap slowly caught us, and that perhaps he didnt feel its proper to treat me like a little girl, his little cute niece like he used to treat me as i was growing up bigger and bigger.

The last time i saw him was when i left my hometown for continuing my study. After that, i never really saw him anymore. I just occasionally heard his news from my parents. Heard his wedding few years ago, heard he got some kids, and met his kids last year but not him. I thought I just got used to never contact with him anymore. I thought things would just go on fine, that one day perhaps, one of the family events, we’d meet again.

That family event never came.

I thought i would probably meet him on my bro’s coming wedding, but he didnt make it. He passed away the next morning right after my bro called him the night before to inform him of the wedding plan. A heart attack, a disease he had, intentionally or not, ignored to take further actions about, had cancelled whatever plan he had made, including his morning walk. And he wasn’t even at home, he was away in another city, alone in his new store, far from his wife and kids, trying to earn some more money, planning for his early retirement in 2 years time, when he’d probably planned to seriously take actions for his already unhealthy heart.

The heart attack had changed everything.

I couldnt stop thinking, like in the Ann Wells’ article, if my uncle had known the next morning would be his last day, what would he have done? Maybe he had some kind of premonitions already, coz he called his wife and kids the nite before, right after my bro’s call, and spoke to them for quite long time, which his wife said was something he rarely did. Probably he would talk to his wife longer, if it wasn’t possible to go back home. Probably he would talk more with his kids, maybe he even would call my Mom and my 2nd Uncle who he hadn’t spoke to for a long time. But he couldn’t possibly know, as the heart attack was too sudden.

As i was thinking about his passing, I felt with a deep grief, that how mortal we are human being. How fragile our life is, and how easy things can be changed in just seconds. The heart attack that took my uncle’s life was probably only few minutes, and he didn’t even make it to the hospital. In just few minutes, his family’s life and plans were changed totally. His kids are left without Dad, his wife is now a widow, and I dont have my 4th Uncle anymore. He was still 45 years old, his kids are the cutest, his stores were doing fine, his wife was so sweet and nice (their story was even so romantic, they were bride’s maid and best man to a couple, their mutual friends, who married more than 20 years ago, yet fate decided to separate them then reunite them again 6 years ago where they eventually got married.)

We are only human. We live our lives everyday without knowing the future. Every step we take, we act like we know everything, yet we really dont know what will happen the next step we put our foot down to earth. We are so proud we make a lot of plans, we enjoy our lives like it will never end, we do good things and we do bad things, we are so over the top that we forget, we dont own our lives. We dont have control over everything, even on the smallest thing. My uncle didnt know that the next step he took after he closed the door, that heart attack would come and took his life.

As I’m writing this, i could only think that people’s life is really unpredictable. We should stop a while and think, instead of living our life like it will never end, maybe we should live it like everyday’s the last. If u know tomorrow ur gonna die, what would u do? Would u call ur parents and thank them for all that they have done for our life? Would u tell ur family how much u love them? Would u call ur enemies and ask for forgiveness? Would u go to church or wherever depends on ur religion, to confess ur sins and pray with all your heart?

Everytime we hear of someone’s passing, we feel a shock, a deep grief it that one’s close to us, and feel reminded that life is not eternal. But then we continue, move on, as if nothing happened, and call it as a life must go on.

Yes, life must go on, but it will not be the same anymore. I know mine’s not the same anymore, that i never felt such deep grief of passing of my family members since 17 years ago when my grandpa’s passing. We must live our life as everyday’s the last. Do our best everyday, live to the fullest, but keeping the balance still.

And everyday, we must ask, what would i do if today is our last day?