Farewell Micheal Jackson, Farewell Farrah Fawcett

News of death is something unpleasant to wake up to, more so when it is two deaths in one morning. I was still in bed when Wuan got back from Pudu market and told me that the cab driver told her Micheal Jackson is dead. The King of Pop is dead? What tragic news. I got up and searched for news of his death. Indeed, Michael Jackson had died of cardiac arrest at age fifty. The television is on. CNN is continuously running news on this. My eyes were wet as I watched on television and read tributes to Micheal Jackson.

And then I read that Farrah Fawcett is also dead at 62 today after a long battle with anal cancer. This cannot be a good beginning to a sunny morning. The faceless voice saying “Good morning Angels” kept playing in my head. While I remember her as one of the Charlie’s Angels, the poster of her in a skimpy red swimsuit is forever etched in my mind. Red swimsuit, flowing wavy blonde hair, that wispy smile – it was so sinful to the teenager in me then.

The deaths of two icons of my formative years made me feel really old suddenly. The zombie of Thriller and the person who popularized the crotch grabbing dance move is dead? The one Angel that made teenage hormones hit the roof is dead? Those facts are hard to made sense of for now. This loss is coupled by the realization that things of my generation are slowly heading towards the sunset one by one. That makes me feel so vulnerable. Good bye Moonwalker. Good bye Jill Munroe.

When My Time Comes

Reallybites wrote an eulogy for her friend who passed away recently. Eulogies are beautifully written sad stories that remembers the memorable times of a person’s life. What I could relate to was that her friend, although having to undergo dialysis, continued doing what he loved best – photography. I love photography. I am living with chronic kidney failure. One day in the future, I may just have to undergo dialysis when my kidneys give up on me.

That final moment when I breathe my last and go meet my Maker does not scare me much. What I fear most is the process that leads to that final moment. Am I able to live my life to the fullest in spite of the 3-day per week routine of 4-hour sessions of boring renal dialysis? Will I continue to freeze moments in time with my camera? Will I be able to muster the spirits to never give up? I am not sure I can be that strong.

When that day comes, I will look back at ReallyBites’ story to inspire me to fight to the last, to never give up. I cannot forsee or change whatever that is forthcoming. What I can do now is to build up my courage for that day and pray that I do not falter. All that I can do now is to live day at a time and hope for the best.