There are no more tears in Heaven.
Frankly, there are insufficient words for me to try to express my sadness and remorse for the loss of good people - and one good man in particular, Uncle Chow Weng.
Years past, I was heavily involved in the Youth Ministry at my church, the Chapel of Kristus Aman, during what some of us remember fondly as the 'Golden Age'. My youthful generation, full of ability, pride and arrogance, joined up with an already established, mature and experienced Youth Ministry. What an explosive combination! we quickly esablished ourselves as a crazy and fun organization, with as much dedication to God and a common cause as well as the arrogance and irresponsibility of youth!
During this time we were under the care and guidance of several Youth Co-ordinators, and for an extended period of time, Uncle Lau Chow Weng and Auntie Ivy were our Youth Co-ordinators. This husband-wife pairing was impactful on the youths at the time, in that they were very close to us young 'uns. Their hands-on approach to our well-being as Catholics and young people ensured them a firm place in many of our memories. My fading memory even remembers barbeques at their place in Taman Tun.
Although regret may not be suitable at this point in time, I do regret now that I perhaps did not appreciate them as much as I should have. In fact, I lost contact with them (barring the occassional hellos and small talk when I randomly bumped into them) for a number of years, up until recently when to my utter surprise, they popped up in Sam's studio for a weekend salsa class.
In fact, what wrenches my heartstrings the most is that I saw Uncle Chow Weng and Auntie Ivy only a few months ago at one of the Havana Estudio monthly studio parties. I even took pictures of him dancing.
I visited Uncle Chow Weng in his home not long after he was released by the hospital. He was determined to live out his remaining moments in the presence of loved ones. His family had already accepted God's will in all this and their strength was incredible. To possess even a fraction of their strength in these extremely trying times is unheard of, save and except for the most exceptional of tales. I went up to Uncle Chow Weng, who was lying in his bed wrapped up in those infernal tubes and wires (how I hate seeing all those damned tubes - reminded me of my dearly beloved Grandma approximately a year ago), and I asked him:
"Uncle, salsa how now?"
His eyes widened and his face instantly broke into a wide grin at the word 'salsa' and he laughed weakly. In a strained, tired whisper he tried to tell me he wanted to dance. I broke down uncontrollably at the sight of that smile. That look will stay with me for a while, I tell you.
I write this article with tears in my eyes, for the loss of a good friend, mentor, father, husband, salsero, and most of all, a good man. With reference to a certain maestro, there will be no more suffering and no more tears in heaven. Uncle Chow Weng, I pray that you find peace in the new life after this wretched one. In a bittersweet way, while us mortals continue to mourn our loss, paradoxically, we will rejoice that you have found your place at His side.
Goodbye, for now, and until we meet again.
For those of you who like statistics:
Vital Stats for April: 4 post 48 pics
Vital Stats So Far: 145 posts 5,608 pics
Disclaimer: The views published in the above photoblog are the author's and the author's alone. If readers are not agreeable with the above views, well, you can bugger-off. All rights are reserved for the the photos and/or articles itself. This article may be reproduced with permission for the author or private or public usage, or other forms of general mayhem. Any unauthorized usage of the images and/or article contained therein is expressly prohibited and violators will be prosecuted with the full force of Malaysian law applicable. Thank you for reading this disclaimer.
