
Much alike to the scene in HP and the Half Blood Prince, I would raise my wand for you.
The news came so abruptly and suddenly all those memories starts to flow in very naturally albeit too quick for my liking as I have yet to let that fact sink in.
The fact that you have just left us all.
You are and will always be someone that I have my utmost respect for. There are so many moments we have shared in those few years and I can only say that I am very very glad that I get to share those times with you – I would not have asked for anyone else.
You were someone who believed and have faith in us when no one else does and say otherwise.
You were someone who sees the good in each of us when no one else did.
You were the very someone who would be willing to defend us when we decided to behave, do and allowing us to grow in our own ways.
You were the very person who was there for us.
I cannot recall a time where I have said this to anyone or anywhere prior to this but whenever someone calls me out (in a good way) for my command of language, I would always be very thankful that I had you to guide and mentor me during the most crucial years of my education and very proud that I have done well enough to not let you down (or at least that’s what I hope).
I remember, very vividly, the very time where I sat in front of you and nervously asked if I made it through and you paused, looked up at me and gave me that smirk and said: yes, you did.
And I am pretty confident to say that everyone that was once your ‘children’ will all look back and deep into those shared moments with you for you have created such an impact, at least for me.
Plus I found it weird that I suddenly remembered about Care2, a site that you advocate the very first day we met you, out of the blue and with nothing related to that site (for I was at work) yesterday.
Who would have expected or thought of this ‘result’? Sigh.
I hope you’ve lived a good one and will always be happy on the other side.
And the last thing that I can and will say to you will be:
Thank you, Mr. Tan.
Just that you won’t be giving us that glance (plus a nod) and walk to the table while we take our seats.
Not anymore.
P.s. I have to pay extra attention to everything that strings up in this post.
I wouldn't want to disappoint him now.
Not now, not ever.