For Farah
A meditation on loss.
I rarely remember how a lot of my friendships were born. I just thank every lucky star for all the sweet people in my life, and do everything I can to be worthy of their companionship. But there’s this one moment I remember very vividly of when a friendship was born between me and a lovely girl called Farah. We met in September 2019, both fresh out of university, both embarking a new adventure in adulthood: our very first big girl job. Today, I grieve for her. Farah passed away in January 2021 and my heart breaks whenever I think about it. I was supposed to send an Eid Mubarak message on WhatsApp to her number which I’ve yet to delete on my list of contacts but never did, stupidly thinking I’d have more chances. She wasn’t one to be active on social media, didn’t share glimpses of her life, so I couldn’t know how bad her battle with chronic gastritis had gotten until the worst had happened. I’m not sure where to put all the conversations left unsaid, all the times we promised we’d touch base again if ever I happened to be in Jakarta, all the catching up we would’ve done. I write letters to her from time to time, and though I can’t press send or mail it to her, I know she’s reading from a better place. Below is a love letter to my friend that I hope can serve as a tender reminder to you, gentle reader, to write that message and press send to the person you’re missing right now.
Monday 20th June 2022
Dear Farah,
I miss you (again). I recently switched from an Android to Apple phone and nearly lost all our WhatsApp chats! I was so close, thank God it didn’t actually happen because just the thought of nearly losing those chats made me lay down in bed and cry at 4 in the afternoon. I exported and emailed them to me right before making the final stage of the switch. I’ll keep it forever.
I was in Jakarta not too long ago, and I had fun. I go out more now that I’m triple vaxxed and lockdown regulations have eased. I know it’s not possible, but part of me was hoping I’d see you. It’d be like old times. I’d get on the Lebak Bulus Grab line from Bendungan Hilir MRT station, looking for you to have our morning chats whilst we walk from Istora Mandiri to the office. I remember trying to navigate the MRT system with you after our very first day of work. You were going home and I was going to meet my relative at Sency Mall, you went on the Lebak Bulus Grab line with me but you were supposed to go the other way on the Bundaran HI line. You got out the train as soon as you noticed, which was at the next stop. I didn’t know it then, but if I could I would’ve followed behind you out the train and reached out for a hug. Our time together might not have been longer, but it was a little bit of infinity that I cherish.
Thank you for being someone I could lean on when we were just two baby interns in our firm, figuring out and stumbling through early adulthood. I was so nervous and scared on the first day of work, then I saw those emotions reflected on you. I came over to you and made the first move, which is so unlike me but something made me feel brave in that moment. After that, we could talk about anything from Netflix shows to latest office gossip. You were the best of us, bubbly, charming, and ever so kind.
Have I told you that I miss you? Well, I (still) do.
Yours,
Ghina
