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My PA passed away on Christmas eve.
The day earlier, she had collapsed at home and was admitted to Intensive Care. Her heart had stopped for more than 10 minutes, and it took 3 attempts for the doctors to revive her.
I rushed over to the hospital as soon as I heard, only to find her in a coma and on life-support machine. The prognosis was grim, we were told.
Deep down I knew she would not make it through the night. Still, I harbored hopes that she’d wake up, that she’d survive somehow.
She was a fighter in more ways than one. She had been widowed for many years, and has had some health issues of her own to deal with. Despite all that, she marched on and worked hard to raise her 3 children single-handedly: they’re all grown up now and doing well in life. Not many women I know could do that.
She was almost like a mother to me. She’d come in to work sometimes bringing me home-made dessert as treats. She’d clear away the empty coffee cups in my room, and patiently listened to me whining about this and that. And all along, that warm generous smile never left her face.
I desperately prayed for a miracle to happen that day. Alas, my prayers went unanswered.
On December 24th, at 3.45 pm, she went away without saying goodbye, and left us all with a big hole in our hearts.
It felt strange coming in to work this morning, seeing that empty desk outside my door and the familiar dark-blue jacket still draped over that creaky old chair she used to sit in. I walked by without giving it a second look.
Guess I was not quite ready to say goodbye just yet.
I will miss you Kak Zorrah.
Rest in peace.