A Moment of Being, A Moment of Non-Being Thereafter

Yesterday was the birthday of a friend who has passed away. I got this notification email from Facebook and each letter which makes up her name immediately brought along a whirlwind of flashbacks, all washing over my me and my senses in the form of distant memories. It all happened briefly, mere seconds, but it evoked a feeling so profound, as if I was navigating through a storm and eventually bound to arrive in the eerie quietness in the middle, the storm's eye, with a realization repainted anew that... she's passed away. She's no longer in this world. 

What remains, is her tomboyish smile in my memory. A smile which is there when I close my eyes for a moment. Imprinted so clearly, as if freshly carved behind my closed eyelids. 

We were not that close. I couldn't recall talking to her even once when we were still in the same junior high school because we were never in the same class. After junior high graduation, I moved out to a different high school instead of continuing my study in my former school, whereas my friends at that time mostly stayed. I got to finally know her in my high school years later through our mutual friends, and suddenly every time I hung out with my junior high school friends she was there, the main part of the group, a person everyone in the group got really close with except me. They shared classes together, I didn't. 

But I tried to get close to her too. 

But we never were. We were not unfriendly toward each other, we just weren't close, is all.




Still, we hung out a lot back then, our group, and what I remember most clearly is when we shared the same euphoric enthusiasm toward the upcoming international badminton tournament and we, some of us from our group decided to watch the match live and that included me and her. Well, badminton was still big at that time; our nation had the best line of players ever. We talked nonstop during the bus ride, raving over prospective matches when queuing together and finally when we entered the indoor courts we swore it was like stepping into a different new world altogether and she really couldn't agree more. Well, the whole place was packed with audience and it was one of the best moments in my life, I tell you. You probably ever watch sports matches from TV and that already gets you really excited (or swearing). But watching sports live is a whole new level of intoxication: The air, the atmosphere, are brimming with contagious energy and spirit, and it's true when they say that sports makes people feel united, which in this case, nation A vs. nation B.    

Certainly we had great times together. And certainly it was a relief that I could conjure up those moments without any difficulties. At least, I do her an honor by reliving them, the shadow of her smile and her eyes becoming alive in my frame of mind, and I sigh to myself, "I'm not a bad friend after all". 

But, maybe I am.  

College years came, and everyone was pursuing a different path and we never met again. 

Heck, I didn't even remember what year it was when someone from my junior high school told me a terrible news, that this friend got hospitalized because of breast cancer. She had undergone a chemotherapy session (which I had no clue of) and had even been considered cancer-free before...

But it turned out wrong. She was still battling her cancer. 

And lost.

Fast-forward to present, I got to "see" her again through a Facebook email notification, an unanticipated notice in my inbox which showed me a picture of her face smiling cheekily to the camera, a cheery notification that told me to "help celebrate" her birthday by writing a birthday wish on her Facebook timeline.

I didn't write anything on her timeline. 

Instead I write it here. 

My heart feels heavy with indeterminate weight inside, but I couldn't cry so I have no way to pull it out (don't ask me why I couldn't, I don't know). The "no longer alive" and "would never see again" phrases are orbiting around my core of being, which is not a joke. I figure if she was still alive and well, we still wouldn't grow close at all. I probably wouldn't know what she did for work, and I probably wouldn't go to her wedding. And she, too, probably wouldn't go to my wedding as well.

Now she's far away, only connected to us by remnants of memories. Life and death. A moment of being, a moment of non-being thereafter. Haruki Murakami says that death is not the opposite of life. It is part of life. 

I'll always keep it in mind.