My life took a sharp turn for the worse when news of my close Thai friend's death reached me in the morning of 29 October 2022. My dear friend, Fone, had passed away from tuberculosis in prison.

Fone was like a dear little brother to me. He was my trusty assistant and loyal companion. He had helped me and my friends with significant things.

For example:

1. He helped me attend to some important immigration matters in my stead nearing the deadline.

2. He helped me negotiate the deal involving a super-expensive mattress, including liaising with the salesperson after my buyer's regret.

3. He helped to call up a government agency to ask about matters pertaining to a deed (land ownership, that is) for my friend.

4. He brought my Singaporean friend out when he was visiting while I had to work.

There were also the small little things that really touched me.

1. He painted using watercolour an endearing picture of two hamsters.

2. He prepared for me an intricate bento using his excellent culinary skills.

3. He made some candy for me and my then-roommate.

4. Knowing that I liked LINE stuff, he bought some graphic tapes from 7-eleven for me.

5. He also drew a picture of Brown on a piece of paper that was made into a medicine holder, reminding me to apply some allergy medicine.

6. He kept the things that I gave him close, like a keychain with Pooh. He wore it everywhere he went.

7. He also bought me some pants, and shared about his personal life daily.

Oh, my grief for him has been overwhelming. In the evening of his death, 28 October 2022, I was still mentioning to a mutual friend over dinner that he was about to be released from prison in just one more month. Alas, that was the same day he succumbbed to his illness.

I have been crying almost every day in painful grief. I kept on asking for forgiveness for not being able to video call him and write letters to him. 

He needed the encouragement to eat properly in prison so that his body could fight off the infection, but he must have been severely depressed and desolate. He once wrote in a reply letter dated 21 June 2022, three weeks after he was incarcerated, that the letters that I wrote to him were the only things motivating him. However, I didn't rummage through my mailbox thoroughly, so the letter must have been buried under other things in my mailbox for two months. The agony of waiting in vain he must have experienced! :'( he must have felt so abandoned......

I also allowed my heavy workload to take over my life. Something as simple as writing a letter and sending it EVERY WEEK was also not done out of laziness and busyness. I really hate myself for that, and I hate my work for that. What mattered to me more was a life, not work, but I did not do enough to help my little brother. I really regret my actions. I regret taking his strength for granted.

I told him in my letters to keep himself busy, to form good ties with the other prisoners and wardens. But someone in depression would probably prefer shutting himself off from society. 

I am also worried about prison as a nasty institution. I don't know if he was abused there, but I shudder to consider that......

Anyway, my dear Fone is gone now. He's been gone for more than a month. Yesterday, 8 December 2022, would have been his 25th birthday. I would terribly have liked to bring him out to have some nice food to celebrate. Alas......

I am thankful though that I am not the only one grieving his absence. I know one of his other close friends went to make offerings yesterday. I, though, merely prayed to God for mercy...... I hope Jesus can take pity on Fone and be merciful towards his fate after death. I hope Fone is free from suffering and disease in the afterlife. I am terribly sorry for still grieving over him. Some people said that Buddhist belief is that if we cannot let go of the departed, they will remain sad and be unable to be reborn. I don't know, I really don't know. 

One thing is for sure though, that I need to move on soon. I can feel my physical health deteriorating like shit. My heart feels weak, my head hurts, my breathing is impaired. All this heavy grief has taken a physical toll on me. Fone once said in his farewell text that he wants me to rest more often and to be healthy. I am not really healthy now, though... so I guess that's something he'll be sad about.

I told myself I would allow myself to grief until February, 100 days after his death. There are still so many milestones involving him to come that are gonna make me cry. For example, he sent me a voice message on New Year's Day, wishing me a happy new year and happiness. Then there will be when we first met on around 17 Jan. These milestones are gonna bring back so many memories of endearment... 

Grief. Sucks. Balls. sigh....................................

Time heals all wounds, I guess. May God please take my grief and give me healing.

I love you and miss you, my dear Nong Fone aka Nong Ling! 🤗

Samuel