Joseph.
Bad news have their own special, subtle way of carrying themselves. They arrive with the coming of a silence - a deaf and time freezing silence. You know what it is, or what it could be, but the hardest punishment is perhaps not knowing when it would happen.
Of all the bad news I have had, it's funny how most of them came in the form of written words - my results, my warnings of bad attendance, warnings of bad result. And fair enough, all these were brought by myself. And because they're self inflicting to a great degree, it wasn't something beyond my foresight.
Losing a family member, is.
Joseph was a cousin from my mother's side. He has always been his younger sister and brother's keeper. For almost 1 year now, he has been battling Sarcoma, a type of connective tissue cancer.
Just 2 weeks ago, my mother told me about his current condition - the cancer spread to his lungs, and the doctors told his family to take him home, there isn't anything more they could do. For the 2 months he spent his time in the hospital, undergoing chemotherapy, and for even longer, I could never imagine the pain and suffering he has gone through.
Maybe it's just the way how my father describes an event, how he turn scenarios into simple form of sentences, containing only what was needed to know in a message. Maybe it's how direct he was in giving news. Or maybe that's just how bad news carry itself, no further need to add or subtract to an already deafening arrival...
"Joseph way loon passed away dis am 00.15, funeral 2moro 1pm, b adv."
Those were the exact words from the SMS my father sent me yesterday...exactly the needed measure.
I guess that in the end, the one thing that I feel the most guilt, is not taking the chance to talk to him. To tell him that he is one of the bravest man I know, and how proud of him I am.
All that could have been Joseph, I wish that you finally have peace now.
What you left in us is more than a mere painful memory.
What you have left behind above all else, is the reminder of how fragile and precious life is.
You were a part of my childhood, and now you have become a part of my making as a man.
You did not leave in pain...but you left with strength, courage and love.
My deepest love to your family's precious loss.
Rest in peace, Joseph.
