keeps her distance, and sits on fences, puts up resistance, and builds defences
damn you should be called jenny sia
i was at a cemetery earlier today, i was there with a friend for a run and it was drizzling.

rows after rows of graves were there before me, and a sense of awe (i don't quite know which word is the most appropriate)just filled me, and a sense of reality, that in the end, everyone of us will end up dead, and my friend commented that it everytime he goes to the cemetery, he feels that his problems become a little bit smaller - there he regains his perspective.

indeed the cemetery is one of the most tranquil places around, and there's a sense of things being in its place. there were loved ones tending the graves of those whom they've lost, flowers and ornaments left in memorial of the deceased, even the grass appeared to respect the dead and not encroach onto the graves. the trees by the side of the road had sparse leaves, quite unlike the angsana tress that we have along our highways and buildings, and the birds were in the sky. and the silence. not the kind of deathly eerie quiet, more of a meditative, peaceful calm.

i walked around and read the words on the epitaph, words that either the deceased had willed to have them inscribed, or words that their loved ones have lovingly chosen to remember them by and to ease their own pain as well.

i have fought the good fight, i have finished the race, i have kept the faith
- from 2 Timothy 4:7

this was inscribed on a couple of graves but it was a great encouragement to me. how wonderful it would be, if i could, at the end of life look back and say proudly that indeed, i have fought the good fight, that i have kept the faith?

but there are heart-rending graves as well. graves of still-borns, of babies, of children, some of whom are only a few months old when they died.

there was a grave that read:
CHRISTINE WHERE ARE YOU?

CHRISTINE INSIDE JESUS.

christine was less than a year old when she died.

most sobering of all was a grave of a pair of twins, 5 months old when their parents lost them buried side by side with the cross in the middle and a verse from lamentations:

For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.
-from lamentations 3:33

can you imagine just how heart-breaking it must be to lose 2 children, 2 of their flesh and blood at the same time? 5 months old, innocent, seemingly with their entire lives ahead of them gone. from the verse chosen, it is clear that at that point of the inscription, the parents were in such pain, such distress yet even then, they chose to surrender their grief and sorrow to God. even with the loss of their beloved, they believed in the goodness of God.

this is the same with the parents of christine, and the other children, with toys scattered around the graves, their loved ones struggling to let go.

the cemetery, so much as it is a resting place for the dead, it is more crucially a place for the living to express their love, their grief, their sorrow for the ones that they've lost. a place of pain, but a vehicle for healing. a place of loss, but a field of remembrance.

but is death really the end of life? if so, then what are we here for if we're just going to die one fine day? it not, what comes next?

these are really important questions because they'd define our meaning of life.

is it to get that high paying job? to marry a rich husband? drive that car? carry that bag? wear that lable?

or is it excellence? to win the world cup? an olympic gold? be a nobel laureate? a grammy award? an oscar?

to live a good life? to simply enjoy whatever, whenever? to have many friends?

these things that we chase, will they be like chasing the rainbow, only to come to the end and find that there is actually no pot of gold there? or will it be like completing a race, and at the finishing line there is glory and praise and rest?

i have my answer. do you?