We Are Not Alone (a send-off essay for Anna-Leen)

Coming home from Anna-Leen’s funeral, there’s a motion-picture that’s stuck in my mind. I clearly remember the hearse parking by the curb, then Jeff’s vehicle moving behind it. Jeff stepped off, his head bowed a little. He was wearing a crisp white shirt and was clutching yellow flowers in his fingers. In every way, he looked like a groom at the end of the altar, anxiously waiting for his bride.

There he was, waiting ...so certain of the changes to come, yet so clueless about what the future holds. There he was, going through the motions of the ceremony, mingling with the guests, seeing them off one by one. And then it was his turn to leave... The only difference was there was no bride to come home with. What should have been a journey for two is now a passage for the lonesome.

What a sad, sad movie...

As my heart breaks for the loss of a very dear friend, I try to come to terms with this loneliness. Looking back at Leen’s illness and her ultimate passing, it’s neither the pain nor the tears that I remember. Rather, it’s the outpouring of love and support from everyone around her. When I was afraid and crying, I remember how friends made me feel that we were going through that together. When her illness took a turn for the worse, our group started a 9 o’clock prayer habit. Back then, we felt there was strength in numbers. But as I look back at it now, it was more for us than for Leen. That we wouldn’t feel so alone in our sorrow; that we could be with each other even though we were miles apart. When we finally bid adieu to Leen, there was a sense of family that hugged us in one tight embrace.

CAMARADERIE...COMPANIONSHIP... For me, these words have become synonymous with Anna-Leen’s name. In the seventeen years of our friendship, I remember wondering why with every gathering; Leen would always have a brother, a cousin, a friend (heck, even a friend of a friend) in tow. Sometimes I questioned whether our group was not entertaining enough. Hehe. When she was already ill, I speculated that perhaps they were her scapegoats from being questioned about her condition.

It’s only now that I realize that Leen has carefully meshed every aspect of her life into a seamless whole. Her eulogy program was a clear testament of this web she had created. She would have laughed at the troupe that was preparing the program for her. What an ensemble it was -- her family, her relatives, her friends. We were all working together as if we had known each other for a long, long time. Hahaha! Who am I kidding? Because of Leen, we indeed, have known each other for a long, long time! Ah, ever so caring, Leen! It was as if she knew that she would be leaving us so soon. She found a way for us to find company in her absence.

Flashback to my sad movie...there were hearty moments after all. There was no bawling while we laid Leen to rest. Instead there were quiet tears and poignant songs; quite appropriate for someone who is now at peace. No one could ever measure how much love was given out at the service. I can’t recall how many people squeezed my shoulder, touched my hand or said reassuring words. And Jeff...no one could ever count how many people hugged him that day.

Now I come to realize, there is no loneliness to come to terms with. Essentially, there is no loneliness for we were never, never alone. In God’s perfect plan, and in Leen’s perfect execution, we are left with each other. We are a family now. I call her dad, Papa. Her brothers have become like brothers to us as well. Her cousins have become our friends. Our group has grown to include Jeff and the couple’s good friend, Jason. Certainly, this companionship could never fill the void that Leen has left. But thank you, Leen for all these people that you have brought into our lives. They will forever remind us of you.