“Funerals are not for the dead. They’re for the living”. -Hazel Grace, The Fault in Our Stars.
“Don’t pity the dead. Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love”.- Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows.
“Death ends a life, not a relationship”.- Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie.
I am no longer surprised that I actually have read too many books about death. One time, I told ibu about my weakness. And now, I am going to tell younthe exact same thing. I often feel that it is rather easy for me to grab any word that I want and arrange them to make them sound beautiful or, better yet, more accurate. However, I can never ever in my whole entire life- even after years of studying language- that I am able to put together a string of words to express sympathy.
Yesterday marks a year my best friend Mikhael died in a hit and run accident approximately, December 24, 2015.
This morning, December 25, 2016, I woke up and showered feeling already burdened with thoughts of Mikha. “No wonder Ma asked if I have read Yassin yesterday. I forgot its been a year since Mikha…”. Ma is Mikhael’s mother, Aunty Tasmin. She insisted me of calling her “Mama” ever since Mikha left.
Me and Mikha, both of us grew up together. Eventhough our family parted ways after ibu and Ma finished their Masters, both of our families are still best of friends. We used to go to the same kindy, him being my partner during the kindy concert for the Hindustan dance. Him, being my all-time bodyguard.
The clock just strucked at 2300H when we received the news. I was in my room reading.
“Kakak, get ready. Kita kena pergi hospital.”
“Oh. This late? Kenapa ibu?”
Ibu’s face turned white. All I can remember was me trying to find the black abaya Mikha bought me from his trip to Abu Dhabi in the closet. I wore the abaya to see him.
We arrived at HKL and as I got out from the car, Ma immediately hugged me and soon followed by Mikha’s sisters, Kak Shira and Shireen.
He had white cloth all over him- and a few red dots. He looked like he was just sleeping- except that his face was pale white and his lips were blue.
I am not ready to face the death of my best friend.
I can’t possibly imagine myself howling and probably fainting if I could see the look on his face.But I know, that calm face. Mikha always had the calm face.
Adha Mikhael, the name assigned to him. Mikha is what his family and my family called him and mostly I address him as Miks or Draco.
He was an indipendent boy yet super caring and affectionate. When he got an entrance letter from the Circuito de Catalunya Racing School in Spain, all that was in his mind was “Leya, how can I possibly leave you behind? Siapa nak jaga you?”. I could only give him *ee I’m in boarding school la don’t worry*-face. But I knew his future is far beyond that. And I want him to chase it- be a professional Formula 1 driver and make me proud. (Mikhael was then one of the Petronas-sponsored young driver in their youth development programme).
I never expected that to be the last few words I would hear from him. And I didn’t expect him to leave me in a very tragic way. Instead of saying my goodbyes to him at the airport, I’d say the goodbyes on his funeral.
His case is till running in court with the final court reading is on January 11th. His birthday.
I do not expect any words of sympathy from anyone. Because I know there is no word for it.
To some of you, this maybe just a normal friendship. To me, he is my brother and my best friend. My darling.
I am glad to be your best friend though you broke my heart terribly. I am glad that you looked peaceful in your last moments. I am glad that I managed to smile though tears were falling non-stop through my cheeks. I am glad that you are gone in good terms.
I love you dearly. Good night, Miks. I’ll see you soon.