Life was unpredictable.
We wouldn’t live forever and we wouldn’t know when we would be gone. Maybe I was a naturally pessimistic person or as the dialect went, I was rather kiasi. Even when I was pregnant with Z & X, I always prepped myself with a million “what ifs”.
When I read news of wars, bombs, terrorist attacks, missing flights and natural disasters, I always worried. I wished I could be with my family for as long as I could.
If that day ever came, I wanted my family to know that I had led a good life because of their love. I wished I could say goodbye in person.
Memories were forged on the times we laughed our hearts out, when we explored foreign cities, when you told me how much you loved my cooking, when you tucked me into bed, when I held my babies for the first time, when the tiny ones grinned, when we held their tiny hands, when they sang, when we simply spent all the time we could together, when we loved each other and our family, when we shared the same heartbeat, when we embraced every morning together, when we grew old, when we lived our dreams, when our days were written for keepsake.
We lived our days as though it was our last. We always looked forward, we chose how we spent our moments and loved the ones around us.