Untimely Departure

Last Friday, 3 words came creeping into my phone late into the evening, delivering a message so brief yet so poignant.

Due to post-op complications, her dad has passed on. At just 55.

I was well blown away with it. It sent a reverberating chill thru my veins. I did not know how to process this information. My hands quivered. I dropped by phone onto my desk and took a moment to myself. My mind went blank. Just blank. Not a thought, no brain wave activity whatsoever.

I summoned up enough energy and composure to draw a cigarette from my pack, stuff a lighter into my pocket and stood up with my phone. As I got ready to leave the office to call her, “I’ll be back in a minute,” I told JM and MS. But all they heard was nothing more than a hasty mumble. They thought I left something in the car or someone was downstairs to pass me something.

At the stairs, I lit my cigarette and took a huge breath and proceeded to dial her number. My thoughts, nonexistent. The voice lady told me her number was unreachable. I dialed again. Same thing. So I dialed, again, and again. But to no avail. Yet again, I wouldn’t be too surprised that she had turned off her phone. As it stands, it’s already too much for her to handle. The only man in the family has departed, leaving the girls behind. She needs to stay strong for her sis and mum. The last thing she needs right now is to break down and cry, even though she is on the brink of a severe emotional collapse. She put on a brave face.

I texted her.

It was almost instantaneous that I started making plans to go back to Penang to be with her. As soon as thoughts started rushing back into my head, I know I needed to go back. For all the time we’ve spent together, albeit has been brief and still in its early stages, I would have been a snake in the grass if I hadn’t. But I needed to see her, I really do. She was supposed to be here in KL with me this weekend. But the weekend has taken an unfortunate sharp left turn.

I left for Penang on Saturday morning, MS got in to the car with me as he already had previously planned to go back Penang for some work-related reason, “Kanneh, even during week days we don’t get up THIS early,” he points out the obvious.

I nodded and couldn’t agree more, “Ideally, I would have love to leave yesterday, but I do not know where she lives!”

In Penang, I tumpang James’ car. His wife followed us as well. We all know her. About an hour later, we arrived – gosh, I never knew how far it was for her to come see me in the island – and proceeded to park the car. We made our way to her house, where the wake was held. She was in prayers, with her family and relatives. I stood there, clasp my hands together and paid my respect to the deceased. Minutes passed, felt like hours sometimes, we were hanging out on one of the tables they have set up for us. I was with James, his wife and a bunch of her colleagues from work. The group was suddenly silenced in mid-conversation, perplexed, I noticed everyone’s eye was zooming pass my shoulders. I looked back.

There she was, standing almost directly behind me, her hands covering her mouth. We made eye contact and she let lose. All those pent up emotions came gushing out. My heart felt a little crushed seeing her in such despair. I know whatever I say or do would barely help to ease this pain of colossal proportion. I held her and told her that everything will be okay. That it’s okay to feel this way. Let it out; just let it all out now. She spoke of her regrets and that that were still so many things they were supposed to accomplish together. She had already had done the best she could, no one could have foreseen his untimely departure, I told her. His departure doesn’t mean you still can’t go ahead with it and complete it. Just that, you have to do it without him but you will be doing it for him. I try to comfort her.

For the first time since her dad’s departure, I’m quite sure I saw a smile sneaked up on her face as she sat next to me and looked at me, “When you said, ‘see you soon’, I didn’t expect I’d see you this soon,” she whispers, “I thought you’d be attending your friend’s show tonight in KL,” she refers to Dasha’s show at NBT on Saturday night.

“I needed to see you. I can’t possibly stay back in KL and have a good time and getting drunk whilst you are here in so much pain,” I told her, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,”

Our encounter was short and brief. She led me and the rest of us to pay our last respects to her dad, “Your dad is a very handsome man,” I told her, “I can see he was a loving father,”

“He would’ve liked you too,” she tells me before she head back for her prayers. It was gonna go on the whole night. If my memory serves me right.

I tiptoed my way back to where she was and whispered to her that I gotta go now. I told her to stay strong, keep her head up and that it’ll be alright. She nods her head and this time, I am sure I saw her smile. That made me smile. But I had to contain myself, didn’t want to walk out of there like a beaming idiot.

We had supper around her area before we head back to the island, and my god was she right when she told me about the food around her area few weeks back. The food there is…well, I guess that’s a story for another entry. But all I can say now is this; I’ve tasted the other side of Penang now. And I am truly satisfied.

I hope we’ll meet again real soon. My deepest condolences to her and her family.