gen (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} hungerpangs) wrote,@ 2008-02-26 01:34:00 |
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In Memoriam: John Julian "Jay" Tan
Yesterday, a very good friend, John Julian "Jay" Tan, passed away.
In College (especially my last 2 years in school), we were practically inseparable. Carpoolmates. Kabarkadas. The perpetual friendly Logcom-TNT rivalry, but always working side-by-side on Sanggu Special Projects. Good friends. Movie buddies. Singing buddies. Angst buddies. Unrequited love buddies. Young adult issues buddies.
And eventually, our relationship had to face that crossroads between the inevitable platonic-or-more question. It was complicated and ambiguous, at best. And this unanswered and unresolved question continued for a good 2-3 years or so.
Through the ambiguity, we were still inseparable friends. We always tried to be there for each other whatever milestone our life we had crossed, big or small.
He was even somewhere there when Jude & I got together, even though it was difficult for him to take a step back.
And even when years had passed and we saw less and less of each other, he would never forget my birthdays; greet me at Christmas; read (and respond to) my blog regularly; invite me to smoking breaks when I was still working in the same building he worked in -- though we hardly got to see each other anymore, he was nonetheless still a constant in my life.
He always was a constant in everyone's lives. He is the kind of guy you only need to meet once, to always remember. A big guy (literally) with an even bigger heart. I cannot imagine a world without him in it. It just feels... well, wrong. And somewhat off-balance (and if he were here, or reading this from somewhere out there, I can just hear a quip and a good comeback).
Last night I found myself in a state of utter surreality. I was sobbing without knowing why, it had to take a few shots of vodka to calm me down, eventually I was fine.
I think last night it wasn't sinking in.
Today I think it's starting to sink in. When I am reminded of Jay (and believe me, you can easily find something when that something decides to lodge itself in your mind), I find myself fighting off spontaneous tears.
Perhaps this isn't necessarily grief at his passing.
I know he lived a full life. He lived life on his own terms, with no regrets. He loved a lot, loved largely, loved completely. He always followed his heart, even at the cost of his own heartbreak. He was a bundle of unsupressed joy and optimism. He always had a smile and a warm hug ready for everyone - family, friends, even foes.
He is in a better place - a warm, bright, happy place with no pain, no suffering, no worries.
So I think my grief is caused by...
Guilt, that not once in these months/year that he was sick, I failed to keep my promise of visiting him, thinking "next time, when the time is right or better, when there's no work, no chores to do, etc etc etc". Not once in my most morbid dreams did I think the next time I would be visiting him, it would be in a funeral home, mourning his demise.
And then there's worry and anxiety for his parents, his brother and his almost-girlfriend. Those who love him the most, those who are left behind. No parent should have to bury their child.
And then there's a part of me that feels infinitely stupid. How can it be that we (myself included) could all lose sight of what matters? How could we all fail to see that our time on earth is fleeting? That at any minute, things could drastically change. How could we prioritize other things that ultimately don't even matter - when those that make life so much more worth living are just right there?
While the Jay that I know would probably slap me silly for feeling this way (he wants a party at his funeral, not a bunch of sad people) -- I'm calling a spade a spade.
Perhaps in his own grand way of leaving behind a piece of him, this is his final gift to me. A wake-up call. A second chance to live life the way I should. The way we all should.
To live life to the fullest. To never waste one single minute dwelling on the unimportant. To give time to family and friends. To love fully and completely.
Though I end this post with a tear about to form again on my eyelids, a part of me feels comforted and reassured. I know in my heart that he will always be with me, with all of us, somehow, some way.
Yesterday, a very good friend, John Julian "Jay" Tan, passed away.
In College (especially my last 2 years in school), we were practically inseparable. Carpoolmates. Kabarkadas. The perpetual friendly Logcom-TNT rivalry, but always working side-by-side on Sanggu Special Projects. Good friends. Movie buddies. Singing buddies. Angst buddies. Unrequited love buddies. Young adult issues buddies.
And eventually, our relationship had to face that crossroads between the inevitable platonic-or-more question. It was complicated and ambiguous, at best. And this unanswered and unresolved question continued for a good 2-3 years or so.
Through the ambiguity, we were still inseparable friends. We always tried to be there for each other whatever milestone our life we had crossed, big or small.
He was even somewhere there when Jude & I got together, even though it was difficult for him to take a step back.
And even when years had passed and we saw less and less of each other, he would never forget my birthdays; greet me at Christmas; read (and respond to) my blog regularly; invite me to smoking breaks when I was still working in the same building he worked in -- though we hardly got to see each other anymore, he was nonetheless still a constant in my life.
He always was a constant in everyone's lives. He is the kind of guy you only need to meet once, to always remember. A big guy (literally) with an even bigger heart. I cannot imagine a world without him in it. It just feels... well, wrong. And somewhat off-balance (and if he were here, or reading this from somewhere out there, I can just hear a quip and a good comeback).
Last night I found myself in a state of utter surreality. I was sobbing without knowing why, it had to take a few shots of vodka to calm me down, eventually I was fine.
I think last night it wasn't sinking in.
Today I think it's starting to sink in. When I am reminded of Jay (and believe me, you can easily find something when that something decides to lodge itself in your mind), I find myself fighting off spontaneous tears.
Perhaps this isn't necessarily grief at his passing.
I know he lived a full life. He lived life on his own terms, with no regrets. He loved a lot, loved largely, loved completely. He always followed his heart, even at the cost of his own heartbreak. He was a bundle of unsupressed joy and optimism. He always had a smile and a warm hug ready for everyone - family, friends, even foes.
He is in a better place - a warm, bright, happy place with no pain, no suffering, no worries.
So I think my grief is caused by...
Guilt, that not once in these months/year that he was sick, I failed to keep my promise of visiting him, thinking "next time, when the time is right or better, when there's no work, no chores to do, etc etc etc". Not once in my most morbid dreams did I think the next time I would be visiting him, it would be in a funeral home, mourning his demise.
And then there's worry and anxiety for his parents, his brother and his almost-girlfriend. Those who love him the most, those who are left behind. No parent should have to bury their child.
And then there's a part of me that feels infinitely stupid. How can it be that we (myself included) could all lose sight of what matters? How could we all fail to see that our time on earth is fleeting? That at any minute, things could drastically change. How could we prioritize other things that ultimately don't even matter - when those that make life so much more worth living are just right there?
While the Jay that I know would probably slap me silly for feeling this way (he wants a party at his funeral, not a bunch of sad people) -- I'm calling a spade a spade.
Perhaps in his own grand way of leaving behind a piece of him, this is his final gift to me. A wake-up call. A second chance to live life the way I should. The way we all should.
To live life to the fullest. To never waste one single minute dwelling on the unimportant. To give time to family and friends. To love fully and completely.
Though I end this post with a tear about to form again on my eyelids, a part of me feels comforted and reassured. I know in my heart that he will always be with me, with all of us, somehow, some way.
