Making moments count…

Next week, on 19 June to be precise, it will be my dad’s birthday. I’m already feeling a deep sense of sadness, especially considering how much went into his last birthday. He turned 90 last year and I’d started planning his party well ahead of time. Every time I ticked something off my list, I’d have a wide grin on my face, and he’d end up having a chuckle because I’d be all mysterious about what I was doing. He knew full well it was related to his party.

It is so hard to take. The build up at this point last year was intense and exciting. I was counting down days, and then hours to his party. He’d wanted it just with family and I was especially grateful for how everyone chipped in for different things. He was excited about that (in quieter fashion) and he was also very pleased that his brother from abroad was coming. He was thrilled. I could tell from the lightness of his tone in general.

Who knew? Who knew it was to be his last birthday celebration? Who knew? I definitely did not. In fact, I kept making little mental notes of what to do or not to do for the years ahead. Who knew? What is that the Bible says? In Proverbs 16:9, it says that ‘the heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps.’ This wisdom is almost enchanting to a planner such as myself. I’m trying to learn this wisdom. To live it.

We’ve been granted so much grace. I consider our last Christmas in December 2022. I remember my dad’s last birthday celebrations in June 2023. I remember my dad’s last participation in my birthday celebrations in July 2023. There’s a lot more than these two years that I remember. I remember decades of special moments. I remember some pretty spectacular arguments too! Gosh. Not good. Neither of us did well there and I often liked to at those points remind him that I was a chip off the old block. There were many moments when I didn’t shine. Yet, in the last few weeks especially, as I started reflecting on my mum and dad and our lives together, I realise there is truly a lot of grace that I cannot account for, nor can I say that the three of us deserved. Our lives bear taints of sin and very clear marks of grace that have carried us through.

As I reflect, I am confronted by a whole lot of emotions that range from a broken heart to those of joy. I have no apology to offer for the diversity of my feelings, but I know that I am changed. I know the sorrow of a moment lost. We talk about making moments count, but the reality is, all we can do is take one breath after another. That is how fleeting our lives are. I guess we can make those breaths good ones. We can take deep, slow breaths and savour the moment. Often there are shallow, quick breaths that betray some kind of anxiety. And the worst scenario is we aren’t even conscious of the breaths we’re taking.

I am changed. I feel like the shattering of my soul from the loss of my parents will never fully heal. I feel that through the cracks and scars caused by this shattering, there will be wonderful rays of light that shine forth. These rays wouldn’t have existed had it not been for the shattering. I feel like the fragility of my soul has been sealed. Oddly enough, I feel that the strength of my soul solidified through the grace of Christ, is on display.

When I wrote a blog around my mum’s birthday, I said I couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like for her had she been alive these eighteen years. Rheumatoid arthritis is a progressive disease and it’d had its way in her body. If she’d been around, it’d have been a difficult existence. Not that I think she would’ve not enjoyed parts of life – just that it would’ve been painful. My dad in the last few years, especially since 2018, had started trying to prepare me for his passing. He often told me how he was finding things difficult because of his age. He was fantastic, I tell you! He maintained his independence right till the end. Yet, there were signals of his independence fraying. He stopped driving out to the city, because he started finding it harder. He who had insisted on getting his own stuff from the pharmacy or at times even the grocers (to stock his ‘canteen’ or jar of goodies) slowly but surely handed over the reins to me. He stopped travelling after two falls in Singapore in 2017, where I had to fly into Singapore and bring him home. He would often share how tired he felt, though he didn’t give in to it. He maintained a routine of getting all dressed in the morning, going out for breakfast, coming home to a quiet time and then his Sudoku books or TV. The evenings were times he called friends or family for catch ups. He started finding it hard to do these things. Even at his 90th celebrations, he spoke of these things – some of the difficulties he faced. Not that if he was still around, that he’d have given up on life. No. I don’t think that for a minute. He would’ve had moments of enjoyment even as he faced his challenges.

This makes me think. Proverbs 19:21 says:

‘Many are the plans in the mind of a man,

but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand.’ There is wisdom in this. So much that I can barely even say I’ve understood it all. We hold so many things dear. We value so much. Life as we know it is short and not always sweet. Life as we know it isn’t how life is meant to be. Even the good moments aren’t as rich as they’re meant to be. This is because everything is tainted by sin. I’m informed by the Bible that it is this sin that had Jesus come to die for us. It is His sacrifice that brings reconciliation with the Father to all who believe. This reconciliation brings life. It brings life without any kind of taint on it. Life that is bountiful, free from sorrow and pain. It’s a life that I cannot claim to fully imagine, though I believe will come to pass.

So I will go on, shattered soul and all. I will enjoy the moments that I’m blessed with. And I must really thank God for my friends and family. I’m blessed beyond belief. I am so thankful for the times we chat. Gosh, I love the laughs we have and appreciate the wisdom I gain from them. I am blessed. I love how they fill my home, and how they embrace my darling Gamora. I am so grateful to God for His blessings. I will keep enjoying my walks with little Gamora. As long as I can, I will keep hosting friends and family or meeting up with them. Even as I endeavour to do all this, I feel a pang of pain running through me. My mother. My father. How I miss you.

It will be my dad’s birthday next week. I don’t have a celebration to plan and it is breaking my heart. But I’m taking Gamora away on her first holiday, and a cousin who is Gamora’s fairy godmother, is coming with us. It’s not to a far away location, but quite close by. It’ll be a chance to go for some walks, take a few photos of our surroundings- or at least try! It’s hard to take photos with Gamora on the end of a leash! It will be a change of scene. I’m leaving the planner self behind, and will leave the pages free for God to write. Once again, I look to my beloved king David for a lesson. He doesn’t disappoint. Psalm 32:8: ‘I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.’ This is what I want to remember going forward.

Papa, who knew that last year would be our last time celebrating you. I’m so glad we did it! I know you enjoyed it. I miss you so much. I miss mummy too. It is a privilege to miss you both and to reflect on our lives together. I thank God for you.