In loving memory of
25 November 1977 ~ 13 January 2006
I am dedicating this blog entry to a dear friend of mine, Kelvin David, who passed on recently on January 13, 2006. He was 29 years old.
I met Kelvin on Friendster.com. On July 19, 2005, I received a message in my friendster's mailbox:
heya there....hows it going?....hope the days coming along real nice for you. i saw your picture right here online...and thought i'd send you a lil msg just to say hi. i mean if i cant use this friendster thingamagic to make new friends then i dont see its purpose at all. so if you're up for some shits and giggles...holla back yah. you can add me on MSN if you have that or if you like reading, i think i have a pretty good read on my blog...you know with me living with a terminal illness and all: www.kelvindavid.blogspot.com
well...i said the msg would be short...so keep my word i shall. you take care and keep safe. keep smiling. enjoy the rest of your day and week ahead i reckon. hope to hear from you soon.
That's Kelvin for you. He was frank, straightforward, confident and possessed the most positive attitude on life I have ever seen.
When I first met him for dinner, I was pretty impressed by what I saw. He was literally tall, dark and handsome, and spoke extremely well. His eyes were bright and intense, as if they were devouring every twitch of emotion that flickered across your face.
He flashed a big grin when he saw me and held out his hand. I instantly warmed up to this stranger, whom I could not help feeling an aching pain for in my heart. Kelvin had a perfectly shaved head, which emphasized his sharp facial features and piercing eyes. Somehow, I felt that being skinhead was probably more a result of chemotherapy than of choice. But he looked extremely at ease, and happy.
Yes - "happy" is the word I would use to describe Kelvin. A guy like him would live forever in my mind as the most inspirational person of my life. Despite the chains of cancer tugging mercilessly at his life for the last 6 years, Kelvin soldiered on - bearing the armour of Faith on his frail body. He could be in excruciating pain. He could be feeling nauseous from the medication. He could be pricked with needles all over. He could be puking whatever he had just eaten.
But the Kelvin that appeared in front of me was always smiling. Always chirpy. Always witty and mean (at times!). Always gregarious. And always have something to say.
He regaled my friends and I with stories of his fight with cancer. He spoke of it as if it was no big deal - probably to make us feel better. His faith and love for the Lord swept him high up on a pinnacle of peace, arming him a knowledge of a paradise beyond the world we live in. He made no excuse for being ill, and lived life to the fullest. He believed we should cherish all the people we have around us, because we have something he didn't.
He didn't have time.
Kelvin was the one guy who has touched me with his amazing courage. He knew his time was limited. He knew how much time he had left - as we practically counted down the months he would be with us. He knew too that he would not waste his life moping in misery, or throw a self-pity party. He expressed himself verbally whenever he could. He threw caution to the wind. He took risks and accepted challenges. He laughed heartily and teased relentlessly. He was generous with his compliments and frank with his opinions.
Most of all, Kelvin was emotionally strong and highly positive - constantly showering words of encouragement on his friends - even when he was the one who needed them most. I remembered he would look me in the eye and tell me never to look down on myself.
The last time I saw him, he said I was a wonderful girl and that any man who won my heart would be the luckiest guy on earth.
I have always thought of myself as a strong woman, someone of astounding courage and strength. Knowing someone like Kelvin has humbled me immensely. If I have been in his shoes, I might have great difficulty walking in them. Those shoes were laden with lead and spikes, threatening to rip your soles apart if you step ever so lightly on them with your barenaked feet. But tread on them Kelvin did, and he even skipped in them in a spirited dance - warming my heart with his sunshine smiles and egging me on with his indestructible strength.
Kelvin always knew that the Lord was with him - and he found solace in that.
I am sorry I have not been a better friend. I am sorry I wasn't there when you left. But I will always miss you and remember what you meant to me. You may not know, but your incredible spirit lives on in me. Whenever I feel defeated, I will think of you in your spiked shoes, and I will draw myself up in strength and be comforted by the memories of your beautiful smile.
Thank you Kelvin for who you are - wherever you are.
"I've always thought of writing as a long ride...you never really get to end of anywhere, you might think it’s the end of the ride but it’s just not over. "
- Kelvin David