Aikee

"Hey, I just got out of the airport. I feel quite sad and it feels different. Missing you all, this is aikee signing out."

My eyes watered as this text came through. I sat limp in front of the keyboard, and stared blindly at the monitor, trying to hold back my tears on the first day of my official move to the newsroom.

I left work early, and the long drive into the city was a heartbreaking flashback of poignant moments and tender memories.

The ache was too much to bear at the thought of driving by Crema. My usual pit-stop after the battles of my day. My hiding place and safe refuge where I am confident and secure in the kind of love that is strong enough to cover a multitude of sin. Where judgement and condemnation have had little room to thrive in an atmosphere permeated with hope and grace. Together, we dealt with the complexities of family. Juggling work and play, roles and responsibilities, our strengths and all our weaknesses.

I grieved today. That there would be no Aikee to greet me with his megawatt smile and warm embrace. That there would be no more silly banter between "Katrina and Arthur" and the crossword puzzles he so loved to play. That I could no longer help him with his sentence flows or keep tabs on his spiritual growth.

I didn't quite expect his absence would make my world fall apart this way. I don't think I realised just how much strength and joy he brought me in the face of my trials, challenges and hardship. He was supportive ally, armour bearer, brother and friend.

Etched deep into my consciousness are the mixed bag of emotions that were on display as we reminisced, ate, sang and danced at his farewell on Saturday. The cappuccinos and lattes that the whole group of us had sitting in the cold outside the European on Sunday. The moments where we threw aside all propriety, hugged, linked arms, squeezed and held on to each others' hands. The airport scene: tears, tissues, final words, photos and brave fronts. The sombre silent drive home, broken only by the sniffling of noses, deep breaths and discreet tears that ran down our cheeks.

I cried my way to Crema. I cried my way home. I cried as I crawled under the sheets and tried to sleep. I'm crying even as I speak. And I will take my time to grieve.

Aikee, more than you think, you've left a lasting mark, a legacy. You are dearly missed.