In Loving Memory of Joshua Wong
It is long past the witching hour and the minutes continue to tick on by as I lie here, physically drained, yet mentally, unable to shut off. There had been something swimming in my mind ever since this evening, something that kept coming up to the surface every now and then although I try not to let it bother me. In an attempt to that, I’ve gone shopping after work today and blasted quite a bit of cash too, hoping that by the time I reach home, I’d be so exhausted I would just fall like a pancake on my bed and be dead asleep. Alas, that was not to be.
So as the cold night air creeps up at me from my window, I sit here by my daybed and try my very best to confront my thoughts…sobering nonetheless, and slowly, that dull ache that I’m so familiar with rises from the pit of my stomach into my heart. There’s a name that is sitting there, right at the tip of my tongue, a name that I fear to mention lest it brings back those tragic memories that threaten to uproot me, and I’m quite sure, the people around me who held him close to their hearts.
Joshua.
Guess my trip back to my gallery of memories earlier brought back the inevitable. Joshua and the great misfortune that had befallen him sometime around September last year. A misfortune he never survived to tell. I feel compelled somewhat to give him that voice though, for with his death, there is a lesson to be passed on. A very, very important lesson that I hope none of us will ever forget, nor take for granted, ever.
Joshua was the victim of an automobile accident caused by a drunk driver. And as fate would have it, it happened in the wee hours of the morning of his birthday. It was a date I would never forget. For his birthday was three days after mine. I never had the chance to wish him a blessed day. All that I could do was to hang on to the phone till my fingers were cold and bloodless as I listen to the cries of my close friends as they wept for the friend they have known so well. I will never for the life of me forget that feeling of utter helplessness, of neither being here nor there, of weightlessness and hoping against all hope that somehow, someway there was a chance for me to vent all that I felt inside. It was a suffering to have it all pent up with no outlet to release the tension. I couldn’t shed a single tear although the heaviness weighed on me like a tonne of bricks.
First of all, the accident had happened in
London . I was far away enough that the whole incident had seemed surreal somehow. And I knew for a fact that Vince and the rest had filtered out most of the details of the accident to protect my fragile emotions, since I’m famous for being unable to stomach tragedies like this one. I remember shaking my head when I heard the news, unable to put a name to the emotions that I felt churning inside, and all I could think about was that this wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t have happened this way, so tragically, and seemingly Hollywood-style. Not Joshua, sweet Joshua, who would never hurt a single soul and would think twice about using a foul word on anyone.
It is my regret to never have gotten to know him better those days so long ago. I knew him well enough, of course. Joshua was part of the group that I hung around with during my university years. Despite going for trips together and spending time with each other during those outings we had way back when, I realized stupidly during the first few hours of receiving the news, that I never knew his favorite color, or his favorite book, or the things that he liked to do in his free time. I knew he played a lot of computer games. And that he loved R&B music, just like me. And I knew that he liked to eat lasagna from countless dinners with him during those days, but that was about it. I never got to know him at a personal level because Joshua was a shy, quiet person – the kind who would not put himself in the limelight, but sit back and watch as the rest go hog wild.
I guess, in a way we weren’t given a chance. Because not long after we met, I was neck deep into my own problems, and some time after that, Joshua went on to
England to further his studies. We kept in touch despite that. Joshua would write short, short emails to ask how I was faring every now and then. I met him a couple of times in between. There were enough memories and impact to leave a permanent footprint alongside mine in my journey of life, no doubt. But compared to the rest of our close friends who had moved on to
England with him and lived together with him, we were not exactly close.
That was probably the reason why the pain came in dull thuds for me and unlike the rest, I couldn’t bawl my heart out though I felt I should. I still feel bad for that, I do. Of course, there were these hysterical moments when I had wanted to scream and lash out at someone, something, or cry or do whatever. After all, a life is lost forever, his flame snuffed out before he had a chance to glow. Considering the circumstances, I was furious too. There were moments when I wished the drunk driver would pay double or triple what he had caused. I’ve never met or known him but I hated him nonetheless from the bottom of my heart. I wished that he would burn in hell for being so reckless and disrespectful to another being’s life. And there were moments that I wished I was there with the rest of our close friends. At least then I could break down and alleviate myself of that helpless pain that seemed never ending.
In reality though, I could do none of the above. I never did scream, or lash out or cry. And I couldn’t be there, not to pay my last respects nor to attend his funeral. I just sat there all day in my apartment and stared into nothingness, holding the diamond cross necklace that Vince and Joshua shared as a gift for my birthday some days back. It was his last gift to anyone. And like a drowning person, I hung on to it as though it would save me from losing grip. It did. I’d like to think that it was faith that had pulled me through. Faith that Joshua, wherever he was, would want us to take his death as calmly as we should and not grieve for him or send him off in tears of sadness. That was his trademark character – he was as selfless as a person could possibly be.
Now, as I sit here and recollect the figments of my memory with Joshua, I try to reconcile somewhat with that dismal thing in life called death. Maybe not. It terrifies me if I be painfully honest; it still does, because at this age it seems so obscene. So vulgar, that I want to censor it somehow and go into denial. Yet, I know for certain that death is as real as life. And that everyone will have to leave one day. Joshua’s passing has brought a very grave reminder that we should all appreciate every little thing in life – most of all, appreciate the people closest to us and whom we share our lives.
I do hope that those reading this right now would close their eyes for a moment in silent prayer for this solemn occasion, at least before we resume the effervescence of life, to remember the beautiful person Joshua was during his lifetime.
You’re with God now, Joshua, but the wonderful footprints you have left during your journey on Earth will forever remain fresh in our hearts and the hearts of those whom you have touched during your sojourn here. In loving memory, may you rest in peace. @}————
