As I type this, my fingers shake on the keyboard. Once in while, my stupid tears reach my lips and I taste the salt of them.
I’d never expected such heartbreak at the loss of someone I’d never met, but here it is.
I have also wondered about sharing personal stuff on my blog, but this time, I can’t help it, so again, here it is.
The blogging community lost Tina Downey yesterday, but I lost my sister in spirit. SIS, we called each other, half-joking. On Skype calls, we giggled over small things, over random stuff of her American life, and trivia from Singapore.
And she could make you laugh, even when connected to machines and tubes. She made light of all her suffering, medical procedures without proper anesthesia (prolonged treatment had made her body very resistant to some drugs) and not being able to breathe well after a few minutes on the phone.
She joked through our April madness, and she organized and herded the A to Z Challenge team. She loved her blog, and blogging, and blog friends. She could be fierce in protecting those she considered her own. She adored her husband, doted on her sons, stood by her relatives and community.
She loved sunflowers. Always sent me a sunflower icon on whatsapp.
She stood by me when I suffered a bereavement, and we cried together when she suffered a loss. Wish we had talked more when she was healthier, wish I’d pushed on the US trip that’s been on the cards for a few years now. And now she’s gone, leaving me determined to hold my friends, both online and off, closer. To tell them they mean so much to me.
Having lost many friends and family to the grim reaper, I know that the first hours are gut-wrenching. But this year, while discussing death and dying, Tina and I had discussed this quote that comforted us as we cried, and I want to share it with you all today:
“Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!”
Rest well, my friend. You’ll continue to inspire me, and one day we shall meet as we did not in this life, share a joke, and burst out laughing.
Dear readers, has any of you interacted with Tina Downey?
I’ve always counted on and appreciated your advice, so: Have you suffered loss of friends or family? What is the best, most positive way to respond to such a difficult time?