My dearest, darling little brother,
I know, without a doubt, sweet brother, that you are enjoying Heaven and that you are in high spirits over there, yet I still must ask: “How are you?”
were are the baby of the family and I am the eldest among us three siblings. You left us much too soon. My heart aches. No words can give me comfort, and no one can help drive away the pain.
Sad to say, I simply took it all for granted. I thought that there would be many more days, more weeks, months and years for sibling shenanigans – in fact, even on the day you left us, I was waiting to see your smiling face, when later that evening, on your arrival home, I’d carry out the same daily ritual…..I’d quickly demand the ‘password’ before letting you in. Of course, you knew there was no password and that I’d promptly open the door for you. But that daily drama had to be done.
I dearly miss that. It feels as if a bit of my heart has been taken away.
I vividly remember…… The sun set that evening. I waited for you, bro. I so wanted to see your smiling face. But that was never to be. God had other plans. We must submit to His will. Yet still, I can’t help wondering, why? It hurts enormously.
Why? .. Why? Questions sail on my flowing tears, the mist fogs up my vision. Deeply distressed. Bewildered. Baffled. Yet I realise, I must bow to His will, I must!
You left without even saying “goodbye” … Each morning, after breakfast, you’d leave for office at 8.10am, promptly. That day, within an hour, I received the dreaded phone call. A stranger calling to tell me that you
were are no more.
Shocked. Numb. I am dumbstruck. I am stunned, shattered by the effect of the words. I feel as if I’m having a
bad dream nightmare, and, in desperation I try to wake up. But, the reality hits me, wickedly, in the face. It is all true. This is real. I walk in my room, aimlessly, waiting for the facts to sink in.
This was a phone call I thought I would never receive, and words I would never hear. Because, somehow, the silly me always thought I’d be the first one to go. After all, I am the eldest – the old one.
Even though you
were are our baby, yet you always took care of my problems and, like a true super hero, invariably found solutions to all the difficult happenings in my life. You were there at all times for me. And, yes, even now, you are here beside me. I honestly believe that.
I can sense your presence. I talk to you as if you’re sitting right next to me…..and yes, you surely are. God has been kind. He let us have you for fifty-three years, how blessed we
were are! Greatly honoured. It was is a privilege having you belong to our family. Thank You, God, immensely.
I feel enormously blessed because whenever I think of you, I can only remember the happy times. And He graced us with countless! All the laughter, the giggles, innocent guffaws, those secret exchanges of knowing smiles after creating a blooper, and those stifled sniggers, still echo cheerily in my ears. Many a time I catch myself grinning broadly when recalling some of our escapades. God bless.
You’d tell people that: “Whenever my big sister rings me and, in a particular tone of voice, says, ‘Hello, MKA, are you there?’, I know that she’s committed a boo-boo somewhere!”
Haha, that’s so true. For whenever I’d done something catastrophic or bungled up somewhere, you, my darling brother – my knight in shining armour – would come riding on your white horse and rescue me – the dainty, delicate damsel in distress! Sigh. You knew me very well. Sigh. I miss you so.
I am remembering a childhood incident that took place in Yorkshire, England. Mum had taken us three siblings to watch Walt Disney’s ‘The Sword in the Stone.’
It turned out that you, little bro (at the tender age of four and a half, if you please!) were smitten by Queen Guinevere. You wished to be Sir Lancelot, the top knight of King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table. Oh crikey, and what a dashing knight you turned out to be!
After the film, that day, you spent ages in your room, flapping cardboard, flicking crayons and flipping papers. Eventually, when you emerged from your room, what sight do we behold? Or, rather, who do we see?
Sir Lancelot! Yes. Little bro, our knight in shining armour, all dressed up, carrying a cardboard sword and a cardboard shield, bearing a name that was oh-so proudly emblazoned on the cardboard weapon of mass destruction: ‘Slanslot.’ …………. Aww.
One day, years back, Daddy asked you, beloved brother, to write a composition……a task you weren’t pretty fond of then, yet you acceded to parent’s request.
And your Pulitzer Prize winning essay went thus….
‘One day ten crows sat on a wall. They all fell off the wall. Then there were ten dead crows.’
End of story. Period. ……oh, the poor crows.
Huh? Well, whatever happened next, and whatever Daddy said, let suspense reign, eh, little brother? *wink*
Ah, dear little brother, while you lived and laughed amongst us, you generously sprinkled happiness and joy wherever you went. Your cheery grin embraced friends and family alike. Your compassion and kindness touched all those who knew you. Even the little stray kittens would come rushing to you, for despite coming home tired after a busy day at work, you would always have time to feed them their favourite dish – slices of bread dipped in milk.
God bless you, my darling. You’ve done us proud. You walked the earth with humility and gentleness. Your goodness enveloped all. God blessed us with you, a pure soul, a kindly being who spent fifty-three glorious, memorable years with us. Short they may have been, but my, what magnificence and purity we were blessed with – our precious MKA! Thank You, Lord.
Keep smiling, dearest one!
All my love, hugs and kisses,
Your loving big sis,
Maloquacious © 2017