Driving Through Memories of You

Dear Sayang,  

Today, I was driving with my brother. He sat beside me, lost in his phone, and when I tried to talk, he didn’t really listen. It reminded me of you—because you were never like that. You always gave me your full attention, like my words were the most important thing in the world.  

I remember how we used to drive around every weekend, finishing our weekly laundry duty, turning something so mundane into our little adventure. And oh, the endless drives just to find a place to eat—because deciding where to go was always harder than the drive itself! We’d debate, suggest, reject, and laugh about it until we finally settled on a spot.  

And of course, our hospital trips. No matter how serious the reason, you always managed to make it feel light. The moment we stepped into the doctor’s room, you’d act like a child—sometimes sulking, sometimes joking, just to escape the scolding you knew was coming. You made even the hardest moments feel a little easier.  

Now, I drive alone. And sometimes, the silence feels heavier than the road ahead. But in that silence, I hear you. I feel you. I remember you.  

If I could ask for one thing, I’d ask you to stay longer. Just a little longer. But I know you, Sayang—you’d tell me to be happy. You always wanted that for me.  

Life is fragile. We were never promised forever, but we made the most of the time we had. And for that, I will always be grateful.  

I carry you with me, always. In my heart, in my memories, in *everything*. 

**With love, always,**  

Your wife