I'm 27.
How many lives have I watched shrivelling and dwindling away before my eyes?
- Uncle died from septicemia after having survived two heart attacks.
- Grandaunt died from a heart attack.
- Another grandaunt's death arose from complications of intestinal blockage.
- Granduncle battled with cancer before breathing his last.
- Another granduncle fell to his death.
- A female cousin waned away with liver failure.
- 3 cousins (all brothers) kicked the bucket within a span of 5 years due to liver failure.
- Grandmother passed away from heart failure in her sleep at home.
- Uncle & aunt (husband & wife) departed within a year of each other.
- Another uncle croaked in his sleep.
- Second cousin passed on last month from eventual heart failure after being bedridden for more than a decade.
Throw in an acquaintance's murder at UNSW together with Paul's and Alvin's deaths on the same day this year, that's 17 in all.
I'm not even talking about the cycle of numerous hospital visitations, the overnight vigils, the mental, physical and emotional pressure amounting from what-ifs to coping with the eventual loss.
Last year, I shuttled in and out of hospital almost on a daily basis for 3 months because my aunt had a heart attack after which the wires that held the weak muscles of her heart collapsed and she had to undergo a second operation within the same month. It was a difficult period to plough through as this aunt was like a second mother to me. Miraculously, she exited from the hospital alive, "overcoming the impossible" in Dr Lim's words.
With the doctor's approval, it is on schedule that my uncle will be going for an angiogram followed by an angioplasty, commonly known as "ballooning" in laymen's terms. These procedures will be undertaken either tomorrow or the day after. Given his old age and medical complications from his other conditions, it is extremely risky and failure may result in death.
This is the man who has done more than what my own father has for me. My strong command of the language is reaped from his efforts to groom me from a tender age. His investment came in scores of books. Collections from Enid Blyton,Joan Collins, Sidney Sheldon, Roald Dahl, Judy Blume were gifts from him. My love for Literature sprouted from a wide collection of the classics. To quell my thirst for knowledge (and probably to shut me up after the nth "why?"), numerous sets of encyclopedia like Encarta, Wildlife, the Snoopy Collection, et al were included.
I am the apple of my uncle's eyes. Like the rich brats with pocket-filled sponsors, I could have been one to have flown to London for an overseas university education because my uncle was a willing sponsor when it came to education. With that, I could have had a more lustre career, a more ambitious mindset and a better salary. I chose not to, for I had a lifetime obligation towards him. It was difficult sacrificing that, and each time I looked at peers who trickled to Australia, England, America and where-have-yous, I admit that I was, and still am, envious. I am made of flesh and blood after all.
I've never told anyone about my father nor what my uncle has done for me. In my eyes, my father is as good as dead ever since he left for work one day and never returned. He had left by choice. This had happened just as I was awaiting my "A" level results. Once a pampered princess, I was now thrust with the role of the sole breadwinner. Despite wielding high qualifications, my mother had never worked in her life. Grandfather used to own 12 houses in a row and the family was well-known in the Katong area. Therefore, Mum had lived an entire life of luxury in bungalows with huge gardens, 4 maids and never had to do her own chores. Till she met my father. Naturally, I did not want my mother to enter the workforce either. Not wanting to depend on anyone, at 20, I learnt what it was like to pay the bills and run a home. From splurging on $360 jeans and $1500 bags, I learnt to do away with luxury items for a while. All this while, I had maintained a facade, with nobody having the slightest idea of what was going on. Till today, few are aware of this part of my life. It is not a badge of pride that I am willing to emblaze on my sleeve.
And that is why, I do not smile as much as peers my age would.
Admittedly, this frightfully daunting baggage haunts me till this day. That is why, I am a strong advocate of the concept of family - society's base unit which is fragmented today.
Having dabbled in psychology myself, I know that the priority I put on love is to fill the void that my father has left in my life, an undesirable imprint which has left me wanting to be accepted, wanted and being pampered with affection.
That is why, when a relationship fails or when people drift away, I take it as a harsh blow. The semantics are similar. It is the rejection of the self & the diminishing of one's worth. It is this cycle of entrapment that I must learn to break out of & learn to let things go.
But tomorrow, I will not let go of hope. My uncle has drafted a will at the lawyer's where everything will eventually be mine. Mirth and treasure I do not place my priority upon, and unlike most greedy compatriots of my generation, I am not counting the dollars and cents. They matter nothing to me if the most important person in my life aside from my mother isn't alive.
I just want him to live.
From everything to nothing. 
