Say not in grief that she is no more

But say in thankfulness that she was

A death is not the extinguishing of a light,

but the putting out of the lamp

because the dawn has come

-Tagor

Today, Aunty Margaret passed away. She was the tea lady in the church I attended back home in Singapore. Ever since I had been a little kid, running around the church, scoping out nooks and crannies to play hide and seek in, Aunty Margaret had been there, the one constant, watching from her place behind the kitchen counter.

As we grew up, we ran less around the playground and congregated in the main coffee area after service. Amid all the chatter and din created by noisy church-goers, Aunty Margaret was there, dutifully preparing and serving out cup after cup of tea and coffee. Those white styrofoam cups filled with thick milky beverage were a welcome delight to our frozen selves, emerging from the ever too cold sanctuary.

Even though it wasn't possible, it feels like someone permanent is gone. In my mind's eye, i see an empty spot where she used to stand. And the image is strange. The usual crowd is moving as always, the steady chatter a white noise. But still, where she used to stand is a hollowness, a quiet emptying out of what used to be.