It's been a year

"Suppose one morning you never wake up,
Do all your friends know you love them?
Are there any wounds needing to be healed?
Friendship that needs rekindling
Or three words that need to be said,
Sometimes 'I love you' can heal and bless.
Let everyone of your friends know that you love them.
Even if you think they don't love you back,
You would be amazed at what three words and smile can do.
Just in case tomorrow is too late, remember I love you."

Dear Adlynn,

How fast time flies. How fast time flies. It’s been a year since you left us. It feels like it was just last night that I received a call from my brother telling me of your passing. How my heart ached. How my eyes were filled with tears. How I was crying uncontrollably in the middle of the night. I remembered that day very clearly. November 6 – I was already feeling uneasy when I received a text message from my cousin, Darsinah. I filled my mind with positive thoughts that you would be okay, although I knew that a day like this would definitely arrive sooner or later. But I wasn’t prepared for anything like that to happen so soon. To make things worse, I was far away from home.

Then came midnight, it was November 7. Since I received the message from my cousin, I didn’t receive any other messages from anyone so I thought that everything was fine. I was wrong. Just a few minutes after midnight, the word “Call” flashed on the screen of my cell phone. I could feel my heart beating faster. I could feel my heart feeling uncomfortable. I repeated, “No, no, no, no” to myself in my mind, repeatedly. When I answered the call, it was Juji. “Adie, there is not much hope for Adlynn, the organs in her body are slowly shutting down, one by one. But just pray for her,” he said. I was speechless. I broke down in tears, which was all I could do. No words came out of my mouth.

That was the first call. You were still fighting for your life, you were still hanging on. I prayed and I prayed that God would somehow perform a miracle. I couldn’t imagine how you felt. Then the second call came. I dreaded answering that call. I knew that the news will surely not be a good one. And certainly it wasn’t. I just cried when my brother told me that you were gone. He tried to comfort me by saying that it’s okay because you went peacefully with your parents, sister and brother beside you, together with our uncles and aunties and cousins. But death is death. It took you away from us, and being away from home really made it worse. I didn’t know what to feel. I couldn’t say anything to my brother, I just cried.

After that call, I couldn’t sleep. I cried, and cried, and cried. And I kept asking God why – why did He let this happen? I tried to sleep at 3 a.m. but I awoke two hours later. I just couldn’t get myself to sleep. There were a lot of things that I regretted not doing. The sadness that I was feeling inside me was overwhelming that I just couldn’t sleep. I still couldn’t believe that you were gone. I still feel like the calls were just in my dreams.

I was never so close to you. Whenever I go to Goshen, it’s not to your house that I visit and stay. Yes, I see and talk to you in church. Yes, I talk to you if I see you on Saturday nights at the auditorium. With the exception of our family reunions in Kelawat, those were the only times I talked to you. You were always cheerful. You were always positive. You always had that smile wherever you went. But, I admire you for your courage, your strength and your faith. You knew that the day will eventually arrive. You were only given 17 years to live by your doctors. But you have proved to them and those around you that you were strong and lived up to your 22nd birthday. You embraced your 18th birthday because it was so precious to you; you have proven your doctors wrong. You kept a diary where you wrote about your daily life. Your entries said nothing about your fear of death; in fact most of your entries were about celebrating friendship, life, how you live your life to the fullest and your readiness to die when your time comes. One of your entries read, “Lord, if you take me today I am ready to go.” What great faith! That alone showed how strong your faith is in the Lord. You never blamed your disease on anybody, let alone God. Instead, you were thankful for your life, your family and friends and for the people around you who cared about your wellbeing.

Twelve hours before you died, you asked your father whether you had been a good daughter to the family. You knew that your time was near. You could already sense it coming. You could already feel it after your friend passed away two weeks ago. You even told your father how you wanted your funeral to be like. You are strong, and I really admire your strength. You were not afraid of death. You were ready. As you lay on your deathbed, as slowly the organs in your body began to shut down one by one, you still managed to type “God, if You want to take me, please take care of my family, I love them very much.”

Coming home in December last year was not the same. The first thought that came to my mind as the plane landed in KK was to visit your family as soon as possible. But, I didn’t know how to react when I went to your house. On the way to Goshen, I was thinking on how to greet your family. It was just a month since you left. The pain was still fresh in all of us, especially your family. That was the first time that I have ever faced that kind of situation, and it was certainly not easy for me. When I arrived at your house, your sister and father were at home. Melly greeted us, and all I could do was hug her even though I had sort of prepared what I wanted to say. The words didn’t come out, but my arms were open as I hugged your sister. We talked, and I think that was the first time I’ve ever really talked to your sister. I could see that there were times that she wanted to cry when she mentioned you, but she held it inside. Just before we were about to leave, your mother and brother came home. What a shock it was for me when I saw your youngest brother. I remember the last time I saw him, I don’t remember how many years back, but he was still a small boy. When I saw him that day, he was already taller than me! I was embarrassed of myself, seeing how much your brother had grown since the last time I saw him was an indication that I rarely visited your house.

As I watched the video of your funeral, I had goosebumps. Your face was serene; it looked like you were smiling. Clad in full pathfinder uniform, and holding a Bible on your chest. Death may have taken you away from us, Adlynn, but the memories of having you in the family still and will always be in our hearts and minds. I regret not having spent more time with you. I regret not visiting you and your family whenever we went to Goshen. I regret not doing a lot of things. I am waiting for that day when I will be able to see you again. Your courage, faith and your life is my inspiration.

Because I'm the only one I will have a relationship, I choose:

...to love myself the way I am now

...to always acknowledge that I am enough just the way I am

...to love, honor and cherish myself

...to be my own bestfriend

...to be the person I would like to spend the rest of my life with

...to always care of myself so that I can take care of others

...to always grow, develop and share my love and life

Till we meet again someday when Jesus comes.

Your cousin,

Julie