My brother Vern is amazing – he has so many many friends who love him so much. I am so thankful for his friends once again, who can describe him in so much detail and with so much eloquence in their blogs. I’ve become abit obssessed about finding more information about Vernie, but what the heck, it gives me comfort, it makes me smile. Jeen and I wake up in the mornings and the first thing to do is to go online, look at his facebook, look at his pictures.
Last night I lay in bed and prayed, and when I’m alone I hope Vern would be with me somewhere in the room. Suddenly the light flickered once…then twice. I ran downstairs “Jeen, did the lights flicker in the whole house?”
Jeen says….”Oh, the light in that room always flickers”. My heart sank, so it wasnt a sign for me after all.
Another sweet and beautiful blog post by Yvonne Chow, Vern’s Friend.
WEDNESDAY 3rd June 2009 on http://hisprecious.xanga.com/
Vern, you make me cry like no boy has ever made me cry; you make my heart ache at the sound of your name–your full name was always meant for PACE tests only; you make me line up for newspapers before the shop opens–its my first buying the papers for myself; you make me say your name over and over again.
Vern, you make me feel guilty when I’m not crying, as if its wrong to laugh and smile. You bring pain to all our hearts. Its a bad bad feeling, but you deserve to have our hearts, our tears, our pain.
Vern, you’ve taught me the biggest lesson on earth. That I need to cherish and love everyone. Be the most selfless person I can ever be, give all I can ever give. Be slow to anger. Smile at the little things and find comfort in the silliest.
Vern, I’ve asked myself,
What do I do in life now?
What do I do since I’ve lost you?
Even though we’ve had the littlest time together, you’ve showed me so much. How to let loose and laugh like tomorrow isn’t coming. How to make my milo kao kao and not care about health. How to comfort and find comfort.
Even though it may seem like you’ve left us, I know deep in my heart, that you will be lingering in ours till we meet again.
Vern, the paper stand hasn’t opened and I’m already on the eighth message.
Vern, I miss you so badly, but there are no tears. I wish I still had some, I wish I could still cry. But I’m saving it for another time, when I visit you with the rest. The our hearts will mourn together, at the loss of you. I don’t think I will say goodbye yet. Nope, Vern, not just yet. The papers are here. I love you. I will always do.
Vern, I bought the papers, they’ve put you on page 44. Looking at that little article placed on the right bottom corner of the page, they boxed you up with three layers of lines. But who are we kidding, no box can confine you. Looking at your face, you still sent tremors through me. I was threatened to start crying once again. I thought I was going to, but I didn’t. That shows how much you’ve drained out my tear ducts.
Vern, if I could, I would. I asked God so many times, Why did he choose to take you? Why when you’re only 16? Why right after that confession you made? Why when you have such a bright future ahead?
Vern, I was waiting for you to come back, then I would tease you about being so darn sweet to Ro. I was waiting for you to tell me that my food tasted sucky, that I couldn’t cook maggi mee even though mine turned out way yummy. That I should just open an economy rice stall and get on with life. I was waiting to wash you hair over my sink again. Tell me that my spectacle frames looked like layer cakes. I was waiting to smell your scent once again and tell you that you still smelled like infant gel. I was waiting for you to come back and converse with me in cantonese, you bragged that you got better than me. To explain all those cantonese swear words you added to your vocab–your cantonese romanization sucked–I never got those words.
Vern, there’s so much left to do, isn’t it a little early? We haven’t lived enough, you haven’t.
Like what Ju said, I thought we would live forever. And that’s what we always had in mind. The idea of growing old together, having reunions even though we were still sixty. You’d be fifty-nine then. Getting to see who married who.
Your mommy was talking to us after everything. She told us that you got angry at her for washing your hair. Inwardly, I started throwing a few peace signs here and there. The immature way we were when we were gathered together. Thinking, Vern allowed us to wash his hair, comb his hair in the back of that car on the way home, you even challenged us to comb it all the way home, for the whole 5 hours. But someone wasn’t too happy and made you sit upfront.
There’s so much you’ve done, even the insults you threw at us, you got away far too easily. You just needed to throw a cheeky smile, laugh and run away. I miss the times when we made silly videos, I got the strum the guitar as you switched chords. Yes, you were passionate in all that you did. I even loved the way you called your bike, moto. When we spoke about adrenaline rushes we could have as we ran away from cops. I told you I wanted to experience running away from the mafia, and you told me it was normal for you. You experienced it whole, I only had that experienced it in my dreams. What a show off, Vern. But I bet its true.
I laughed so much when you told me you started watching Korean Dramas. It was funny how you used to tease Mei & I. Now it was you. You even told me proudly, that you finished watching the whole series of You Are My Destiny. And put me to shame because I gave up halfway. You were never ashamed or embarrassed of yourself. That is one thing that I will always admire.
You lived your life the way you wanted, you showed me that you could still do the things you wanted to do when you did them your way. You always had your way. You had your way with algebra, you had your way with the adults, you had your way coming in late during PE, you had your way with the milo can, you had your way with your torned rugged jeans even though that would be against the rules, you had your way with getting Zoe, Mei & I to buy you food when you were lazy to come down with us, you had your way with us and we had ours with you.
There’s so much one can say about the years we’ve spent together. The first time I heard of you was when my mom told me about the new kid in her class. The new kid that could thread thread through a needle like an experienced tailor. She told me that you said, ‘My mom always makes me do this for her..’
And you were coined with the title, ‘Master Threading Needle.’ As lame as it may sound, that was the first I had of you. You were so little, always so little, running about with that black digital watch of yours. In that red collared tee you wore so often. With your silly antics, your high pitched voice before puberty. The way you’d attract the older girls. The way you told them you liked them back.
Vern Vern Vern, there’s so much. There’s too much. All in all, I’m glad that there’s too much to mention. For the times that will be coming, the times when we will feel the crappiest, we’ll be thinking of those. I regret so much, not dragging myself to that farewell. Sorry for fainting on that day, I never knew that it would’ve been my last chance to see you. But they told us, we’ll see you soon again. Vern, you’d think this is a goodbye, but its not. Like what that box reads, ‘Love is never saying goodbye.’ I agree Vern, I really do.
You will always be in our hearts, on our minds. I can’t wait to smell you again. Even though it may sound weird. I remember what you used to call your infant gel. Thank you for everything, the laughter you’ve given to me, the love that you’ve taught me to share. Thank you for stabbing my neighbor’s unripened papaya with my scissors and leaving it on my bed. Thank you for being ours.
I love you, I will always do.