I learned of this term last year in early December 2017. My Dad brought it up after I described to him the events I'm about to account on this post.
November 25, Saturday.
My grandmother just got discharged from the hospital after getting the clear from the doctors. All nine of them. She had so many complications. While her condition was 'almost expected' at 90, it was very difficult for all of us in the family to have witnessed it. We could tell she was tired from all the needles and the treatments. And while it seemed like her body was reacting well to the medication, she was exhausted. You can only imagine the family's relief when the doctors gave us the green light. We were going home.
November 26, Sunday.
Each of us in the family had roles to play in taking care of Lola. I did not have the 'nursing' skills, so I spent the morning preparing the timetable for her medication. I also helped my cousin cut all the medicine into the right dosages so whoever was taking care of her (the family took turns) would find it easy. The family was sleep-deprived, but we all took comfort in being home instead of being at the hospital.
By noon, I had to leave for the airport for my flight to Singapore. I was going back to work (after a seven-month sabbatical break) to take on a new role in Seoul, but I had to make a stop in the Singapore regional office. It's a challenging role because it's completely different from what I have done in the past. The learning curve would be steep, but I took it on to grow personally and professionally.
November 27, Monday.
I woke up with an unsettling feeling. Perhaps it was the anticipation of heading back to work after months of being on a break. Perhaps it was the anxiety of taking on a new role and moving to a new country with zero connections. Perhaps I was missing home so soon.
I submitted my passport to the Korea Embassy at around noon time for my business visa to Seoul. The next few hours were spent in meetings with my previous team and in introduction sessions with my new team. The unsettling feeling persisted. Perhaps I shouldn't have gone back to work so soon.
Then at around 5o'clock in the afternoon, I got a call from my cousin. I picked up, and all I could hear was sobbing. Then I knew. She didn't have to say it. I knew Lola had passed away.
The unsettling feeling was my premonition.
We knew that her passing was imminent. Inevitable even. We knew she could go anytime. We were mentally prepared. That's the thing with Grief, though. No amount of mental preparedness can protect you from it. The Grief of losing a loved one. The cold reality that you will never get to see her again in this lifetime. When Grief hits, there's no way around it but through it.
In hindsight.
Had she passed away before I left for Singapore, I would have dropped all my plans of flying to Singapore and Seoul for on-boarding meetings. Had she passed away before I gave my passport up for visa application, I would have gone back to Changi Airport in a heartbeat without any luggage and boarded the next flight home at whatever cost. I would have gone to Seoul and Singapore after Christmas for on-boarding meetings and missed the opportunity to on-board with my predecessor so I could be with the family.
Somehow, maybe my Lola wanted me to go on with my life as though she hadn't beensick dying. As though my time at home was like any other trip for me. She was practical and selfless to her very last breath.
In the end, I made the decision based on the choices in front of me. The margin of making a very different decision was a matter of a day or even a few hours.
So whenever I have tough days in Seoul not just with work but also with the loneliness of being an expat in a homogeneous society, I think to myself that I am where I am meant to be.
And when you are where you are meant to be, you wake up, dress up, and show up no matter how tough it would seem. You put on your lipstick and deal with the day with a smile. As Lola would have done.
xx
P.
November 25, Saturday.
My grandmother just got discharged from the hospital after getting the clear from the doctors. All nine of them. She had so many complications. While her condition was 'almost expected' at 90, it was very difficult for all of us in the family to have witnessed it. We could tell she was tired from all the needles and the treatments. And while it seemed like her body was reacting well to the medication, she was exhausted. You can only imagine the family's relief when the doctors gave us the green light. We were going home.
November 26, Sunday.
Each of us in the family had roles to play in taking care of Lola. I did not have the 'nursing' skills, so I spent the morning preparing the timetable for her medication. I also helped my cousin cut all the medicine into the right dosages so whoever was taking care of her (the family took turns) would find it easy. The family was sleep-deprived, but we all took comfort in being home instead of being at the hospital.
By noon, I had to leave for the airport for my flight to Singapore. I was going back to work (after a seven-month sabbatical break) to take on a new role in Seoul, but I had to make a stop in the Singapore regional office. It's a challenging role because it's completely different from what I have done in the past. The learning curve would be steep, but I took it on to grow personally and professionally.
November 27, Monday.
I woke up with an unsettling feeling. Perhaps it was the anticipation of heading back to work after months of being on a break. Perhaps it was the anxiety of taking on a new role and moving to a new country with zero connections. Perhaps I was missing home so soon.
I submitted my passport to the Korea Embassy at around noon time for my business visa to Seoul. The next few hours were spent in meetings with my previous team and in introduction sessions with my new team. The unsettling feeling persisted. Perhaps I shouldn't have gone back to work so soon.
Then at around 5o'clock in the afternoon, I got a call from my cousin. I picked up, and all I could hear was sobbing. Then I knew. She didn't have to say it. I knew Lola had passed away.
The unsettling feeling was my premonition.
We knew that her passing was imminent. Inevitable even. We knew she could go anytime. We were mentally prepared. That's the thing with Grief, though. No amount of mental preparedness can protect you from it. The Grief of losing a loved one. The cold reality that you will never get to see her again in this lifetime. When Grief hits, there's no way around it but through it.
In hindsight.
Had she passed away before I left for Singapore, I would have dropped all my plans of flying to Singapore and Seoul for on-boarding meetings. Had she passed away before I gave my passport up for visa application, I would have gone back to Changi Airport in a heartbeat without any luggage and boarded the next flight home at whatever cost. I would have gone to Seoul and Singapore after Christmas for on-boarding meetings and missed the opportunity to on-board with my predecessor so I could be with the family.
Somehow, maybe my Lola wanted me to go on with my life as though she hadn't been
In the end, I made the decision based on the choices in front of me. The margin of making a very different decision was a matter of a day or even a few hours.
So whenever I have tough days in Seoul not just with work but also with the loneliness of being an expat in a homogeneous society, I think to myself that I am where I am meant to be.
And when you are where you are meant to be, you wake up, dress up, and show up no matter how tough it would seem. You put on your lipstick and deal with the day with a smile. As Lola would have done.
xx
P.
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