“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest.” (Psalm 22:1-2) And as I continued attending, week after week, that peace became more and more assuring and firm.įor the first time in a long time, I cried out in my heart to God, like the psalmist did in Psalm 22. Initially, I went grudgingly – my family, though Christian, had almost given up on God entirely after seeing my mum suffer through her illness.īut feeling the warmth and sincerity of the church touched my heart. I felt a peace and calmness that transcended all human understanding. Weeks after her passing, our family friend brought us to church, where her husband was serving as a pastor. The warmth and sincerity of the church touched my heart I felt a peace and calmness which transcended all human understanding. In the midst of comments from relatives that I was too little like her and too much like my father in terms of physical appearance, mannerisms, academic achievements and the like, she had been my confidant. All my life, through my schooling years, she had charted my path, and I had embraced it. My mother’s death launched me into a major identity crisis.

Wading through grief and the broken heart Only I knew the truth of the anguish inside. Apart from having legally inherited some of my mother’s assets at just 19 years of age, I was left bereft – a wreck who felt a gamut of emotions that appeared to be insurmountable. Looking back, I wish I had a better relationship with God then – I was in such great pain, but I began to insulate others from my internal struggles. I decided that it wasn’t safe to show vulnerability. I berated myself for feeling sad and crying. After that fateful and unexpected phone call, my grieving process was handicapped. She had died of leiomyosarcoma (LMS), a rare form of cancer. This was the day after my mother’s funeral. Stop crying! Lawyers shouldn’t be crying! “You’re just some rich princess – your father was born rich and so were you – you used your family’s money to study law overseas. “Look at you! Crying your life away when you know nothing about suffering.”

By the time she was your age, she was giving tuition to multiple children, holding a part-time job and supporting her sister’s university education,” my aunty yelled over the phone.

The year we hid away