Unseen

 I used to insist that we kept our phones turned off when we slept, that our phones shouldn't be placed on the bedside table, right next to our heads. 

"There's radiation from electromagnetic waves, you see", I'd always explained. "It can cause cancer."

He never bought that theory, really. I was the only one who always insisted, and as usual, he was the one who had to give in. Every night before we sleep, the phone had to be turned off and placed on the dressing table--the only table furthest from us in our tiny master bedroom. Looking back now, I'm not sure what got into me, that made me further decide to place our phones outside, like really, outside, of our room, just because our room is too tiny and the dressing table wasn't far away enough.

"What happens if there's an emergency and someone called us?", he asked, to which I replied, "that wouldn't happen."

But it did. I woke up one usual morning, went out of our room, and switched on his handphone--about to start my usual hobby of scrolling through his phone while I allow my own handphone to charge. That was when I saw 1 missed call from his mum the night before after we had slept. There were also 5 missed calls from a hometown friend of his, 3 missed calls from his sister, and another 3 missed calls from my brother-in-law who happened to be from the same hometown too. The missed calls started from 6am, all the way to 8am, which was the time I woke up. I suddenly had a sinking feeling that I could not explain, I knew something was up, something bad. Before I could allow myself to ponder more into this, his phone rang again, and naturally, I answered the call. Then I received the shocking news. What happened next went in such a furious blur I could not really recall. 

But I did remember his anguish cries. I remembered how we dump our 1-year savings so that we could book a few flight tickets to various locations, from Kuching to Sibu and to Sarikei, because we did not know where and when he will have to quarantine and which airports would be open for outside arrivals (it was during MCO when it happened, flights will usually experience delays or cancellations at last minutes, and since it's a funeral that he must attend, we could not afford any delays). I remembered making many calls, pleading with the authorities to allow him to skip the 14 days quarantine period, or perhaps to allow him to quarantine right at Sarikei, instead of transferring around from Kuching-Sibu-Sarikei. I remembered my colleagues saying, "You're his wife. You should have attended the funeral."

To cut long story short, he underwent a terribly long journey: from JB-KL-Kuching. Instead of undergoing quarantine in Kuching, he fought fiercely for a chance and managed to hop on to the next plane to Sibu. Upon arrival in Sibu, an ambulance transported him all the way to Sarikei. He was quarantined in a Sarikei hotel and was given a 3-hour grace period to attend the funeral in full PPE attire. Just 3 hours, but that was more than enough, given the circumstances of the pandemic, we know that many people did not even get to see their loved ones for even one last time. We see God's hand at work behind all of this, and we couldn't have been more grateful for that.

Well, after all the blur and chaos, the anguish and the hurts, the sun sets and the sun rises, the earth continues to rotate and everything seems to resume the way it is-- but only the both of us know that it isn't what it seems to be anymore. 

"...The following morning they were angry at the sun for rising, and couldn't forgive the world for living without her."- Anxious People, Fredrik Backman

Ever since that incident, he started placing his phone on the bedside table, right next to his head, with it switched on, as he slept. But that's okay, I did not comment about electromagnetic waves or cancer again, because I was in the same boat too. Never once did I switch off my phone or keep it on silent, not ever again. It was a phobia that I could not really get over, especially when the phone rang after 10pm. Each time the phone rings, my heart will lurch, with all kinds of terrible thoughts racing through my mind--that perhaps this time it's my mum or my dad or my best friend that died, only to find that it was my friend wanting a night chat or my mum's usual call routine. 

We never discussed it. "If only I had never insisted on such a foolish routine, if only we had answered the phone on time, would the ending be different?", this thought sometimes crossed my mind, and I'm sure it crossed his. But he wouldn't blame me for that, as always, he's a kind, gentle soul, that's why he never raised that thought out loud.  I knew too, that it wasn't my fault, that if we were to answer the phone on time it wouldn't have made much difference. I mean, I know all the theories and all the logic at heart, I'd read enough to know that we can't leap into self-blame and all. Yes, I know, I know. 

But there's a difference, between just knowing on your own, and having someone knowing it and saying it out loud for you. And Backman did--it was an emotional outlet.

"You can't carry the guilt and the shame and the unbearable silence on your own, and you shouldn't have to." -Anxious People, Fredrik Backman

I bawled at this quote. I felt deeply comforted in knowing that someone (besides God) understands and that someone is willing to say it out loud for me.

So this is me coming straight here to blog after finishing the book. It's been a long long time ever since I read a book that resonated and spoke to me. Anxious People-- this book deserves a standing ovation. If you'd never read this before, I truly hope you can find time to read it someday and uncover its treasures within, just like I uncovered mine 🌻