When I brought the kids to school this morning, the radio stations all sounded like 92.4. Morose moving piano music, the sort heard in weepie Korean dramas, replaced the usual chirpy DJs and upbeat morning pop.
No explanation was needed. I knew he was gone.
Last night, Manchester United beat Liverpool 2-1. KK was thrilled. The match ended at 1130pm. About four hours later, the man who defeated the odds for our little nation died in his hospital bed in the intensive care unit of the Singapore General Hospital, while we were all sleeping.
The children are not back from school. But I know they would have been informed. Any sort of ‘happy’ school event in the week has been cancelled. It will be a gray week at school.
I am sitting at my computer, reading tribute after tribute popping up on my Facebook feed. Online, I see his son the Prime Minister addressing the nation and I cry a little when he cries a little. On my desk are reams of notes and books about him. One of my jobs over the last few weeks has been to write a commissioned tribute.
But really, like the Law Minister said in his Facebook post, what is there to write that hasn’t been written?