Sitting in my office, staring at the busy room full with unfinished tasks and books, a feeling of nostalgia kicks in, making me write this in an early Monday morning.
Another year, another first of January, another cycle of ordeal, another meaningless celebration, where most of us find the previous one unfulfilling, and hope for a better year by partying, putting up fireworks in the middle of the night.
I for one, know for a fact that nothing changed, my KPI stays the same, or made bigger, my work is the same, my salary stays the same, and my family’s gotta eat. There will be another 365 days of 24hours, where opportunities lie in wait for me, requiring no less hardwork and determination as before.
Call me pessimistic, I’m not buying into the “next year will be better” promise. Fireworks or not, I will do better, because the are people depending on this.
However, I do realise one thing changed, and I’m not sure how to feel about this.
It struck me recently my previous nanny, one whom brought me up as a toddler, who hand-sewn my first white labcoat and praised me every Chinese New Year, has passed on. God rest her soul, for she is the kind and caring mother-like figure to me, who gave advice to me when I absolutely needed it, and brought me to who I am today.
Another realisation is that my grandmother, who was the one caring for the big old house, who prepared my favourite CNY meals, is now sick and frail. I will not be able to taste her cooking anymore, and to help her with her chores anymore, fully knowing the extend of her illness.
That sent my mind wandering in an early Monday morning, were usually organised and calm, into a stream of greyish thoughts about life. The morning coffee’s aroma turned bitter today, but it is no less welcoming, because for today, I feel that I need some bitterness to clear things up in my mind.
I noticed that I am going by each year knowing that as the number grows, people that cared for me will need to go. As I grow, they are wilting away, watching, and more often, pinning for the moment to spend more time with us. They will never ask, because they cared for us so much that the idea of being a burden will never be entertained. They chose to watch and hope, all for our best.
For this, I am contempt, that it is just a part of growing up, to know that we were just a part of a bigger system of life, where everything we do is to pass on our knowledge, love, care, and possession to the next one. Looking at my children, their carefree faces when asleep, I finally knew why my predecessors did what they did. Fully knowing the sacrifices, the heartbreaks, and consequences, they still chose to continue on. In the end, we are mentoring the future, showing them whether our methods work, and support them with love and care through their hardships in life.
This, I can work with.
My dearest mentors, I’m grateful for everything you have left me with: your memories, your love, and your wisdom. I will carry them, hone them, and pass them on to others who need it. I will be your conduit to the years beyond your bounds, to reach grounds where you hope for me. May your legacy and your vision lives on.
As the years go on, there will be a time where I will lose all my supporting pillars. When that time comes, I should have became someone else’s, as mine will be the embodiment of every single one before me, living within myself, their memories, their love, their hope, , their wisdom, and their souls.
Waves crashes onto the beach, pushed by another, who cares free,
Knowing none the end will be, knowing none sacrifices mean,
Once it knows and gives chase, but the front will never cease.
The one later will never catch the former, as it was never meant to be.
Same water, same beach, the cycle repeats.
But will the wave grow? we shall see.
Love built me, Wisdom guided me, and Memories live within me,
I will make it matter, if chances be.
But I am merely mortal, where life fleets,
Should I fail, if time wishes be,
May I pass them down to the next, as they will replace me.
So your memories within me lives on, till eternity.
That will be my new year resolution.
Dr Vie Cheong Thong M.D. 