On Christmas Day 1996, a colleague/friend that I invited out for what was supposed to be a day of fun and laughter out in the sea, drowned right before my eyes. Almost. Somehow I knew that this was it...don't ask me how...but I knew we were going to lose him...and I looked away. I couldn't bear to see him go down. We lost him.
On each Christmas thereafter, I will buy him a bouquet of flowers and send it to him at the sea off Labrador Park. Thats the closest to the scene of the mishap and the closest I could get to him. I would take the opportunity to spend some quiet time with him. This is my way of remembering him. I tried to do that whenever I am in Singapore. The two times I did not do so, I had two minor mishaps. Was he trying to tell me something?
This year, I asked a friend to do so on my behalf. But really whenever I am, whenever I go, I would start Christmas Day remembering a dear friend. Initially I wonder if the rest of the people on that yacht that fateful day would remember him and do likewise and then I stop wondering. It didn't matter. I remember him. And I know he knows that.
Many questions were raised, most if not all were left unanswered. Such is the mystery of life.
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i remember this day, although i didn't know it was christmas. it bore in me a fear that day of the sea that i always thought beautiful and her tumultous, merciless ways. the fear is gone but the memory remained. i can delve into the deep blue again, and dance with its rhythm even, though now i am always cognizant of the power of nature and my own finite abilities.
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