A whiff of the past

A lot has happened in a month. And so I thought since it's about time I get rid of my gloomy looming old blog style, I'll do something different this time (partly cause I'm SO free I cannot think of anything else to do). And also because there are a few things which has to be put in writing.

Just a word of caution, I'm gonna be putting up pictures of my sister's funeral. So if any of you who has any pantang/bad luck/etc about looking at these pictures cause your weddingday/granduncle's birthday/dog's birthday/whatever is coming up, then there's this tiny white x in a red box that you can click on the upper-right hand side of this screen.

Anyways, this will be the first time I'm gonna actually talk about parts the events in my life. Without all the cynicism and all that (I try).

So before it all happened, I was happily engrossed at work. And one fine morning after the completion of a very long hearing, I walked into my office and saw this:

Courtesy of my colleagues. Azmin & Teck Wee, I will still kill you.

Really, don't ask.

Not a day after that, there was a lot of going in and out of this wretched place called Tropicana Medical Centre. It wouldn't be wretched if my sister had survived from that place. (Sorry can't help it, I have a grudge against that place).

And then that day came, the day which all of us didn't want to face but had to anyway. It's a little blurry. Except for the fact that I dreamt for weeks in a row about looking at the corridors of the hospital and the room that she was in, and how the doctors could tell us straight in our faces that there was nothing that they could do and show us signs that she was going away.

It was horrible. It still is no doubt. For the fact that I can still visually see the entire scene that morning. It is hard to believe that she isn't here any longer though. Not until it really comes and whacks me in the face. But I'd rather hold on to that small imagination that she's still somewhere, yelling at someone for not doing a good job. At least she's alright.

But ok. I'll keep my word of caution. Here are the pictures.

See. She's so pretty.

Something I got for her as her get well present. I gave it to her anyway.

Her boyfriend bought her a replica of Cookie. Everyone thought it was a real dog.

Something from her friend, Grace, who thought she could use some company.

To Aimee, Ben, Chris, Evelyn, Jasmine, Janice, Jian Bean, Kerting, Siao Hui, Tash, Yiting & Roy (if you secretly read my blog), here's the wreath that you got. It came in just in time for the mass. We thought it was really lovely so it went on the casket.

Thank you all.

 
Oh, and if you didn't know, she got baptised when she was in the hospital. So yeah, she got the death I always wanted.
 
But my sister was being my sister. She:
 
1. Made my cousin buy a very expensive plane ticket to postpone her trip to stay for her funeral.
 
2. Made me buy roses for her on Valentines Day (3x the price ok??) on her 7th day. Not 1. One each for everyone who was there. Fifteen.
 
3. Made us move all her stuff. And I tell you, her 'stuff' sounds normal. How do I put this. Um. Stuff from 1 apartment with 3 rooms moved to a two and a half storey terrace house making it FULLY furnished, equipped, in all the rooms, under the stairs, in the cupboards, shelves, drawers...you get the picture. Oh, and the 1 apartment is still furnished. Live-able. With a couch and all that. We took two whole weeks just to move. It's not done yet.
 
Chea, if you've got internet up there, I know you'll be laughing at all of us.
 
So in the midst of moving, cookie was in the way. So I had to do this:
 
 

And after that she sulked.

Sorry cooks.