When I woke up this morning, my heart was heavy. 3 more mothers have joined my club, the club of bereaved mums. I cried for these mums, their children had just been deployed for a week.
Recently, I told friends, I accepted Andrew's death much easier because Andrew was sick and had no quality of life and hence no future. But for a mum to lose a healthy child, full of future, that is a tragedy far more than mine.
In the 16 years I was in Singapore, I was asked by many foreign friends to take them to Kranji War Cemetery. Though many of them had no relations with the 4,458 Commonwealth casualties of the Second World War buried or commemorated at Kranji War Cemetery. My dad always wanted to go there because he himself was a victim of the war. One can feel the sombre atmosphere as one sees the miles and miles of markers. Some for victims as young as 19, and some have no names. As for myself, it is personal. Like other bereave mums, I feel the pain, the waste that those markers are there. For what, fighting in a land that wasn't even theirs?