When my sister was diagnosed with cancer, she kept sharing that she did not need a funeral and would always say “ I have no friends – I only have five friends. I do not need to have a wake, just say a prayer and cremate me.”
Each time she said it, my parents would roll their eyes. No, we did not listen to her request and she had a proper wake and funeral that lasted for 6 days instead of the usual 5 days. Up till today, I still can remember vividly most of the moments that happened during the wake and funeral, the people that came by to pay their last respects and how I slept at the multi-purpose hall throughout the whole duration of the wake because I was too afraid to sleep alone in our room.
For the past 6 years, I thought that I was coping well with grief, however, I realised that I was at the same time holding on and refused to reconfigure our bedroom layout till last November. During my sister’s last few days, she kept telling me to change the layout of our room when she passed away so that I would not have to think of the painful memories.
However, for the past 5 years, I have come up with lots of excuses such as being busy with work, or not having the time to look for a new bed. When I finally bought a new bed, I realised it wasn’t about not having the time to look for a new bed, a part of me refused to get rid of her bed, because it simply reminded me of the relationship we shared for the past 24 years before she passed away. I wasn’t keen to change the layout of the room at first because it felt as though I was erasing the memories that I shared with her.
I did everything I could to make sure that I could digitalise those memories we had as we laid in bed each night talking to each other and arranging our stuffed toys. I arranged our stuffed toys along both beds and took photos of them sitting on the beds. As lame as it sounds, sometimes coping with grief means doing lame things just so that we do not lose that memory. My attempt to digitalise those memories helped me to cope with the fact that I have finally removed the largest item that belonged to my sister after 5+ years.
Beginning of the year, as I wrote down my New Year resolution for 2024, I thought about my sister’s dying wishes and if I had been doing my best to fulfil those wishes. She had a total of 3 wishes: #1 to continue to update and keep this website, #2: to continue to travel with my parents and lastly #3: to live boldly and to always give my 120% in living life to the fullest.
As I reflected on my sisters’ dying wishes I knew that over the past 6 years, I had been doing whatever I could to fulfil those wishes and I think that I had been doing a good job. The past 6 years weren’t the easiest, having to learn how to live without a sister, but it is because of what you went through and having to lose you at a young age, forced me to grow up and mature. Having dealt with losing you at a young age, I learnt how to communicate and be there for people dealing with grief, and to be able to talk openly about grief and cancer.
As much as I know that grief does not disappear, grief is here to stay forever. I thought I was coping well with grief till I came across this video: My Final Farewell Before I Die. Watching the video brought back a lot of flashbacks and memories of watching my sister battle cancer for three years.
Tears started flowing almost immediately upon seeing Mike in the video, walking around hunched, with a little pack sling across her body similar to the one that my sister had which contains the home chemotherapy pump. You may read more about her chemotherapy experience here. Those days when my sister came home with the little pack, and the port attached to her, she tried her best to live life as normal, but even simple things such as sitting in the driver’s seat and wearing the seatbelt hurt. Similar to the way Mike dressed in the video, my sister would always wear baggy clothes, so that people would not notice how much weight she lost due to cancer.
The way Mike had conversations with her friends and family during the living funeral reminded me a lot about my sister, and how whenever we asked if she wanted something to eat, she would always say “Later then I eat”.
But the truth was to some extent she was afraid that if she were to eat too much she would end up vomiting all the food out, and it would be inconvenient for us to clean up after her. That was partly the reason why she didn’t like it, when ex-colleagues, colleagues, and friends tried to arrange to meet up with her as they weren’t too sure when will it be the last time they see her alive. Cancer took a toll on her body and her appetite. Her appetite wasn’t good at all, eating too much food would cause her to feel very bloated and indigested. Not only would her stomach feel bloated, but it would also affect her bladder, and she would be in pain whenever she held her urine.
Similar to what Mike went through, my sister did not have any idea when or where she would pass away, she only knew that she did not want to pass away in the hospital, she wanted to pass away at home. When my sister stopped chemotherapy because it was getting too costly, she knew then that chemotherapy would not help her get better, instead, it was just prolonging her time on Earth. The doctors said that she had between 1 month to 2 months to live, she stopped chemotherapy in January 2018 but only passed away in April 2018.
I think if my sister was still around, she may have opposed the idea of a living funeral because she didn’t like to trouble people but yet at the same time, she might have been agreeable to it because she always believed that people should stop shying away from the topic of death. Watching the video also allowed me to resonate with Mike’s younger brother. He said “I can’t imagine not having a sister in my life. Yeah, I can’t imagine navigating this life by myself”
That was exactly what I felt 6 years ago. 6 years ago, I kept telling her that I would go to Rome and attend the Papal Audience with Pope Francis and pray that somehow a miracle would happen, and she would be freed from cancer. She kept telling me not to pray for her, but to pray for myself, that I would find the will and energy to continue living day to day even if she is gone.
It was tough and it is still tough navigating a life all by myself without her being part of my significant milestones in life. Till today, I always wonder if you were still alive, would we have achieved our childhood dream of becoming neighbours or would we have moved apart and bought houses in different areas? 6 years have passed and my love for you remains the same as 6 years ago. Maybe I love you a lot more these days because you would not argue with me (haha).
Till we meet again, let’s hope that I will find the strength to continue to navigate life without you, and to live boldly every day.
6 years without you.
