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Friday, August 22, 2014

National Day of Mourning

Few months ago, hubby and 2 of his friends were chatting casually over whatsapps in the wee hours of the morning when he heard a plane en route to China disappeared. He typed “I hope you wife is not on that flight?” but it was followed by a worrying silence from that friend. 

I woke up that morning with hubby’s phone call (he went out early to get water basins cos of water rationing)  frantically telling me she was indeed on that flight.  We heaved a sigh of relief when we heard about the emergency landing in Nanjing. But that was untrue and it turned out to be the beginning of hours, then days, then weeks of the whole saga – and feelings of pain, hope, despair, anger, bewilderment, hope against hope, disbelief, over and over again. We followed the event very closely, glued to our tablets to get the latest information.                           

Not only was she the wife of hubby’s friend, she was also the mummy of Elyssa’s best friend.   Both girls hit it off since they started kindy at 4yo and have remained best of friends till now. The girls also meet outside school cos in the past year, our families (together with others),  have celebrated housewarming, Christmas, birthday and bbq parties at each other’s homes.  Plus the neighbourhood and school events that we attend together.   

I cried and cried thinking of the little girl and her elder brother.  Far too young to be deprived of their mummy’s love  L

I cried when Elyssa came home with nicely tied hair few weeks after that incident. Why?  Cos there was no mummy to tie her best friend’s hair.  (their teacher tied for the little girl.  Then tied hair for some of the others so that she didn’t feel singled out)

I can’t help looking at the playground near my house without thinking that not too long ago, Elyssa and Erin played happily with Elyssa’s best friend and her brother, while hubby and I chatted with their mummy. We talked about badminton rackets, bicycles and don’t know what else. It was just an ordinary event on an ordinary day.
Or so we thought.  I never imagined that it would be our last conversation together. And that it would be the last time I see the 2 kids at the playground with their mummy. 
5 months on, I still think about MH370 often. Sometimes a little guilty that my life goes on as normal but for families of those on board, their lives will never ever be the same again. 

The one thing that I keep telling myself these days is “don’t sweat the small stuff”.  Cos often, the things I complain and rant and get myself worked up are really nothing at all, when considered in the bigger scheme of things.
May those who perished in MH370 and MH17 rest in peace.  And may their families have the strength and faith to carry on with their lives.