Dear Danie

 Dear Danie, 

I've already stopped asking why. After several deaths in the family, I have stopped asking why. Besides, they have not been helpful - like why would a 24-year old be killed in cold blood under a presumed drug war or a mother who seemed to be recovering from cancer died anyway. See, they do not help. Not even asking God why helps, because when the world does not make sense, the only thing left to make sense is faith. 

So, when I heard of your passing, I did not ask why. I just asked what happened. Your beloved Aya has been born to the world, we were more worried about her than you because you seemed fine, until you weren't and then you were gone. Some things even science can't explain. There is no why to death, it just is. Everyone dies, some earlier than others, some in freak accidents, and some in senseless bloodlust. I have stopped asking why. 

They say all people die, but not everyone lives but girl, YOU LIVED. I don't think I've seen anyone who is as brave (and perhaps, close to reckless) as you. You wanted to surf so you did. You wanted to try new things so you did. You were not afraid to bet your heart and try again when it broke. I think, this above all, makes you you. My heart is the last one I'd put on the betting table - I may even be more willing to bet my life than to bet my heart. But you, my girl, did both and you did it well. 

Look at the lives you've touched, and the lives you've made alive by your presence, and the life you bore. In your short 32 years, the zest of life you exuded made me believe you'd live forever. But it was not to be so. 

We said we'll go on another girl's trip when things settle down and when the money comes, but it looks like, that trip will have to wait until we all meet again at some point in the future. 

I cannot regret nor resent the way you died nor even be greedy of why your life seemed short. For some reason, I was just grateful - grateful to have known you, grateful that before you have moved on to the next chapter, that I got to meet you and got to call you friend. 

Thank you. Thank you for that. 

"The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." 

I have been given you in this life. Blessed be the name of the Lord. God has called you home and one day, we too, will be called home. Blessed be the name of the Lord. And really, I can't help but feel just grateful and blessed that in this lifetime, our lives have intersected. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

It has been an honor and pleasure, Surfer Girl. 

You were always an adventurer, Danie girl. I guess God has better waves for you to catch in heaven. Surf on. 

Love,

Ciara 

Penang, Malaysia 2017

The Things I Used to Be

 I used to have it all. 

Well, not really. 

But I used to think and feel as though everything is achievable and isn't that quite the same as having it all. For a moment in time, all things are possible and if I just put my mind to it, they will be mine. 

But the years and the journey were difficult. I have mourned the loss of past selves, and have tried celebrating the new ones that arose and yet, I missed them. 

When I was in college, I mourned the loss of my bubbly friendly self. It seemed harder to make friends in college than it was in high school, but I also mourned the fizzling of high school friendships. 

When I graduated, I mourned the loss of my bright-eyed self who was ready to conquer the world. 

When I got my Master's degree and started on a new job, I mourned the loss of my secure and intelligent self. To note, I did not feel all that intelligent or secure until my world tumbled then I realized that I used to be intelligent and secure-ish. 

When I was nearing my 30s, I mourned the loss of my fearless laughter. Death has made it cautious. 

When I have reached my 30s, I mourned the loss of my go-getter self - the one who despite all odds, can grit her teeth and bear it and just make it happen. 

I am still mourning. 

With blighted hopes and not-yet dreams, and delays upon delays, I question and doubt if some of the things I held on to are still worth holding - and yet they remain. 

I am not sure if they are meant to be ghosts to haunt me or goal posts to remind me to keep on. 

In the loss of all my past selves, I have thought that they, too, would go away, and sometimes, I had wished them to go away for they ache and ache still. 

Except I do not have the confidence to meet them - not like I used to. I had not feared the costs before, I had been willing to pay, but now, I have paid too much and am in debt. I had been willing to be scarred, and now, I have been scarred too much. I have battle scars on battle scars, and scabs and callouses and yet, I remind my little heart to keep beating, to not let itself be numb for it still has people to love. I remind my little hands to open up and keep working, for they still have people to serve. 

I remind them that there is still beauty in this world. I remind them that some delays are just pullbacks getting ready for that trajectory. I remind them of the Dream Giver who does not set people up for failure. 

I think of my past selves. I, sometimes, mourn them. And yet, I know, that they will not be equipped to meet the challenges I am meeting now. They have led me to this place. They were necessary but I needed to grow out of them too. 

I miss the times of my wide-eyed wonder, can-do attitude, but I appreciate the nuances I know now - the more compassionate, empathetic, and grounded attitude. 

I may mourn still and yet, I still hope.