2015 has got to be the toughest year I've ever had to go through. But if it had a theme, it would be "family" and "patience".

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I've always thought of death as an abstract concept, something I knew the shape of, but not the weight. But the past year, I've really felt its reality and how heavy it can really be to bear when it touches those around you.

My mum's close brush with cancer was so out-of-the-blue it took all of us by surprise. Suddenly it seemed that all the time we have with her wasn't enough, and the regret of how I could've been a better daughter was suddenly all too stark and painful. It was the darkest 3 weeks of my life, and I've never prayed so hard. And God, in His infinite grace, deemed fit that we should have more time with her. All these little miracles showed me how blessed and loved I really was: randomly assigning my mum the head of department as her surgeon, letting her other organs be blissfully untouched by the monster tumour, and only needing to remove a few centimetres from her intestines when the tumour was 16cm.

Through it all, our family became even closer. I don't think we've cried or hugged so much in those few weeks than in my entire life combined (we're not exactly very tactile people). And the irony of my mum being the pillar of strength even when she was the one going into surgery (I remember crying when they broke the news, and my parents reassuring me that everything was ok when it should be the other way round).

It was a huge wake-up call to not take my family for granted, and I'm still learning this lesson everyday. It's hard to be patient when my mum's being naggy or asking the same questions over and over again. But now I try even harder to listen and to spend time with her, and to see those naggy questions as her way of loving and connecting with me.

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Then came my kong kong's passing. In retrospect, him being as old as he was, we probably knew it was coming sooner or later. The greatest blessing was that he accepted the Lord before he passed, and of course, that he could have such a long and fruitful life. Maybe that's why, even as we grieved, we were not completely broken. I will always remember those days during the wake, when we would reminisce round the table while we ate my kong kong's favourite food. There was laughter mixed in with tears, and that to me, will always be the gold standard of remembering someone.

These episodes have made me appreciate my family for who they are - their ability to be strong for each other, and to find the joy and humour amidst suffering.

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On the personal front, my anxiety is still a struggle that I'm learning to put in the background instead of focusing on it all the time. It'll always be there, but I'm getting better at recognizing it for what it is and minimizing the damage before it has the chance to mutate. But it comes to me in different ways, the greatest of which is my fear of my own mortality. When a slight fever becomes a fear of leukemia and diarrhoea becomes IBS. I'm tired of this paranoia and the unhealthy reliance on the Internet to research symptoms. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss, and I'm really trying to put this into practice to save myself the unnecessary worry and stress.

Speaking of stress, it seems like my internal tension has finally unravelled itself and manifested into gross acne on the outside. As if that wasn't enough to put up with, the side effects of the Accutane are really killing me - the dry lips, and the dry and swollen eyes. I'm really trying to love myself even more in spite of all this. And to tell myself that vanity is fleeting and sometimes the world really doesn't care what you look like (which is true). But ah it's a constant struggle and I bounce back and forth between self-loathing and unbearable self-consciousness, to heck it I love myself the way I am.

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Compared to the above, work seems like a breeze and a welcome distraction. I'm still being challenged everyday, both in my abilities to perform and to manage others. I'm learning to be more patient and kind with others' mistakes and failings, and hopefully be a better teacher and leader. But I've still got a long ways to go yet, although that's not an excuse. I still fail sometimes, like when I don't give others the benefit of doubt and instead immediately zero in on their mistakes, or when I blow up and give in to my anger. It's all a part of development I guess, the ability to learn and be a better person.

On the love front, I've tried putting myself out there but maybe I'm looking for love in all the wrong places, or having the wrong idea of what love looks like. I've always thought I knew what I wanted, but maybe those qualities are really just shallow and are just by-the-ways instead of real priorities. Just as I struggle with my acne, I'm still struggling with the question of whether it's settling if I go with what's in front of me. Maybe it's still there for a reason? Maybe it's time I let go of all my preconceived notions and just step forward and see where this takes me?

And maybe it's really ok and not that bad to be alone, but to stand alongside and be happy for others who have found their own happiness.

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In conclusion, while 2015 was definitely painful, I wouldn't have traded it for the lessons I've gained - to find patience, kindness, joy and love where they may lay because they really are in the little things, if we only deign to look closely and outward of ourselves.

For 2016, my hope is to find patience and to learn to let go. Patience with my family and to be a better daughter and sister, for my acne to go away (because it will pass, like all things) instead of constantly wallowing in self-loathing, to deal with challenges with calm and emotional fortitude instead of immediate paranoid panicking and inadvertently lashing out at others.

To finally stop fretting, and let God lead me where He will take me.