Remembering Paul Jack

The last time I spoke to Paul Jack, he was undergoing chemo in the hospital.  He had told me earlier that he had cancer and wanted to see me.  But his condition reminded me so much of my Dad's and I was afraid to revisit the same scenario.

I first met Paul at a pub in Damansara Utama back in late 1990's.  He was playing darts and watched me trying to fend off some octopus fellow.  He gave a smile when I caught his eyes.  Somehow we struck up a friendship after that. 

He liked to be philosophical and would talk about meaning of life and work.  He was very much a marketing person and had the glib of the tongue.  He was always passionate about life and work.  He was quick to see through people's bullshit and recognised someone's sincerity. He was my sounding board and helped me through some difficult times. 

He used to tell me stories about his family.  He was very proud of his Dad.  His Dad was in the army and was one of the first men sent overseas for a peace mission.  

I went for Michael Jackson's concert with him and his sister Jennifer.  We had a roaring time there.  At Radio City at the then newly opened 1 Utama, we chanced upon a Rod Stewart-look-alike performance.  We went pub-crawling in KL and PJ areas.  

I cried when I explained to him why I would not see him when he was undergoing chemo.  He was alarmed when he heard me crying and said that he understood and that it was ok.  It was good enough that I called him.  He went on to say that he was not afraid to die and that he would embrace it when the time came.  This made me cried even more on the phone.

I didn't go to his funeral and someone commented that I should have gone.  Maybe I should but at that time, I was not ready to say goodbye to him.  I suppose one never really have to say goodbye to anyone when you treasure the memories and they can live on in your heart and mind.