The recent passing of our Founding Prime Minister has stunned our nation into a state of anguish and mourning. It becomes the hot topic of every conversation, and the sight of the astonishingly protracted queue to pay respects to MM Lee has filled the screens of every form of social and traditional media. I haven't been there myself to join the queue, nor do I foresee myself joining the queue by the end of this week. And in fact, up until today, I have been very quiet about his death. As I look at myself in third person (as I sometimes do), I even thought about how indifferent I appeared. How unmoved, disinterested, aloof.
But this has always how I have always been, even when (especially when?) my heart is in turmoil and I am reduced to tears at the snap of a finger.
I'm not usually one to publish my thoughts so openly and candidly about my sadness. And in this case, despite the recurring themes on my social feed, I didn't want to just post a picture and pen down a few lines of tributes in the caption like everyone else. It felt inadequate. It felt like this sinking heart stood for a much bigger kind of sorrow. and it stems for a big kind of love - the kind of love you have for someone who doesn't have an implication on your day-to-day living, but who has everything to do with the place you grew up in, the people around you; even the person you turned out to be.
Today, we had a reflection session at STB for people to come together and share their thoughts, appreciation and stories about MM Lee's legacy and what he meant to them. Today, I heard my CE's voice tremble with overwhelming emotion for the first time. As they shared about their personal experiences with the man himself, I started to paint a clearer portrait of MM Lee more as a person, and less as a demigod - he was always larger-than-life. His exacting standards of excellence, his brilliance, and his principled nature inspired me in so many ways. Most importantly, Mr. Lee's vision of an incorruptible public service system who toil for the best interests of the public was a timely reminder of what it must mean to be a public servant, and the obligations I inevitably undertake when I chose this career path for myself.
I want to share his stories with my children, and the generation of tomorrow. I want to exemplify his incandescence - in my writing, in my work ethics and in the decisions I make for the rest of my life.
Thank you, Mr. LKY. And in the words of a friend: "May you be with her soon."
