Funeral Firsts

Everything was gearing up towards a really good day last Sunday.

I woke up some time before 12pm, got out of bed, took a shower, got dressed and kissed my mom on the cheek goodbye before leaving the house. It's very rare for you to find me giving my mom a peck on the cheek. It was her birthday party the night before and she seemed a happy bunny, thought I'd let her stay a happy bunny for the rest of Sunday.

After that I had a great time with my girlfriend, chilling out in the house in Taman Tun, watching DVD's and eating goreng pisang (there's a really cool place in Taman Tun that sells ten for a buck). I sent her back at around eleven and arrived in Taman Tun to get some work done for Monday.

That's when I got the call.

At around 10pm one of my cousin's found his sister dead in her office. The coroners would later tell us that she passed away sometime around 8pm, a heart attack triggered by her asthma. The guards had no idea she was in the office.

Now, I'm not very close with relatives, particularly so on my dad's side. We just never seemed to connect, too different from each other. Whenever there was a death on that side of the family I was always left feeling a bit sad but not too bugged by the whole thing. This one bugged me. It stayed with me more than any other of my relatives deaths. Why?

Because she worked in Corporate Communications.

I used to work in Corporate Communications. Then went to the creative side of advertising agencies. But regardless, whether your on the client or agency side, whether your a creative, a suit, whatever, the advertising and communications industry is one where you will, without fail, work your fucking ass off, morning, noon and night. Even on weekends.

My cousin was found in her office on a Sunday night. She was working late, like so many other suits and creatives and clients I've seen in this industry. She couldn't have been older than her mid-thirties, maybe forty at the very most. And she died. At work.

Alone.

I went over to her office when I heard about this to find a whole bunch of my relatives, some of her colleagues, my parents and a whole bunch of cops. I saw her body on the floor, behind her desk, as her brother tried his best to stop himself from bursting into tears.

The next day I went back to the village for the funeral. Usually I'd stand at the side and try to be as quiet as possible. Not this time.

This time I helped carry the body.

I'd never been this active at a funeral before. Never had to carry a body, help bury it, none of that. This was the first time I'd ever had a relative pass away that actually hit me in the chest, the first time I'd ever helped.

It was also the first time I almost cried.


Hope you're in a better place, Kak Zizah. Rest in peace.