And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever
If I should ever leave you,
Those who I love,
To go along the silent way,
Grieve not,
Nor speak of me with tears,
But laugh and talk of me,
As if I were beside you there.
I'd come... I'd come,
Could I but find a way!
But would not tears and grief be barriers?
And when you hear a song or see a bird I loved,
Please do not let the thought of me be sad.
For I am loving you,
Just as I always have.
You were so good to me.
There are so many things I want still to do,
So many things to say to you.
Remember that I did not fear,
It was just leaving you that was so hard to face.
We cannot see beyond.
But this I know: I loved you so.
By the time the service was over, there wasn't a single dry eye among those who'd gathered to bid a final farewell. Every now and again, you'd see packets of tissue paper passed around, hankies whipped out and the occasional sobs.
The tears flowed freely, for even the sky opened up on Saturday, sending showers of blessings among the bereaved, as they wept for the woman who had touched their lives in a manner no one could ever forget.
A total of 12 men found courage to stand at the rostrum to share heartwarming stories and their personal memory of the special angel they've loved. Yes, 12 grown men who struggled to hold back their grief or in their failure to do so, choked on their tears.
The only woman who had attempted to speak had to be helped down to her seat. She faltered and could not go beyond the words: "Today would have been her 26th birthday..." The woman also did not sit through the memorial service. She is now in the intensive care unit. She is the woman that Sparks calls the Queen. She is the woman who gave Sparks the chance to understand what it is like to be loved by a mother.
No, it is never easy for anyone to lose someone they love. It's even harder when that someone they love is as remarkable as his Sparks. He's beginning to see the sense of the Chinese proverb, 天妒英才, which means "heaven is jealous of the outstanding". Oh well, just as a relative had said: "We can only take consolation in that thought."
It was an eye-opening, heart-rending experience for MOTM, given that he had been a part of her life only in the last months. If he had previously described her as "special", "remarkable", or even "outstanding", they were mere adjectives that did not half measure up to person she truly was.
From the caretaker in the orphanage where Sparks had spent the first part of her life, to the wonderful doctor (and his wife) who had given her the love, the family and the home she had craved for and fully deserved, from the English literature professor who had been impressed with her literary supremacy, to the fencing instructor who had been beaten by her level of persistence, from the man to whom she had first offered her innocence, to the other one who had never stopped loving since he first saw her beating up three boys for being cruel to a dog...
Through each of their hearts, their eyes, their words, the magic of the angel who'd lived and loved so bravely, so magnificently, so wonderfully, unfolded and engulfed one and all.
And as the final words of remembrance were uttered, as the Reverend led everyone into the first notes of Amazing Grace, quiet sobs turned into loud wails of sorrow. Despite the constant pleas from her father, the man she calls Pops, and sometimes Pappy, even as he struggled to compose himself.
From aside, MOTM's eyes scanned the church as he too fought to keep his calm. It should've been an easy task, his years as a journalist has instilled that ability to remain detached from the most tragic scenario. Yet it was a losing battle, and when it came to the benediction, he could no longer control the tears.
He is not ashamed to admit it. In fact, he'd proudly declare that he's been thoroughly humbled by Sparks, and that experience is one he'd live to remember for the rest of his life.
And he recognises as a fact: That while she is not the first woman he'd loved, she is the last he loves. For there can never be another one like his Sparks.
He concedes too that one day, sometime in the near future, he'll seek the man who robbed her love, her smile, her laughter, her life. In his own way, he knows, he'll make the man who destroyed and killed Sparks pay for what he had done dearly. That is his promise.
But tonight, once again, he is doing nothing, except missing his angel.
The love that once was born can not die,
For it has become part of us, of our life,
Woven into the very texture of our being.
Each of us would wish to leave some part of ourselves,
So here and now we bear witness to the one we knew in life,
Who now in death bequeaths a subtle part,
Precious and beloved,
Which will be with us in truth and beauty,
In dignity and courage and love
To the end of our days.
