May 6, 2016
Twelve years ago, we were at MRT Shaw on our way to Veterans. Dada was in critical condition. We were reeling from how fast we were losing her. Stepping off the escalator, I broke down. You faced me, held my arms, and told me to be strong, nary a sign of tear in your eyes. But I saw deep sadness, and I understood and felt your pain. She would die a few days later. I miss her as I'm sure you do. That day by the trains, I learned about a brutal kind of strength. And I knew you better.