Bennett Lam

It came up casually enough one evening a couple of years back. As the family sat around the dinner table at one of our usual get-togethers, Ben asked if we had seen the latest edition of the Law Society Directory - for the first time, the names of all three of us had been listed, side by side. Our parents, who had always been immeasurably proud that their three sons were lawyers (even though we sometimes joked about whether that was necessarily a good thing), were understandably excited and kept reminding us to show them a copy.

As with so many of the things we take for granted in life, we assumed that this happy state of affairs would continue for many years to come. As it turns out, however, it was not to be. In May last year, Ben went on a fishing trip off Horsburgh Lighthouse. He became unwell on the second night of his trip and was discovered missing from the pleasurecraft the following morning.

Ben was truly passionate about fishing, a sport he picked up some 13 years ago. He loved the feeling of oneness with nature and the peace and tranquillity that his fishing expeditions brought. The rest of us in the family were content to listen to his stories about the one that got away, as we ate the catch of the week. So, Ben's last trip was to us just another one of his usual weekend getaways - there was no ceremony, no send off, which preceded it.

Yet, the unimaginable happened.

Our lives were turned upside down when the news was broken to us on that fateful Sunday afternoon. We desperately clung to the hope that by some miracle Ben would be found and rescued, but with each passing day, our hopes dwindled as search efforts proved futile. By the end of the week, naval experts told us that we had to face up to the reality that it would have been impossible for Ben to have survived a whole week out in the open sea.

As a family, we had always felt whole and complete in the comfort of each other's company. Suddenly we found ourselves struggling to accept the cruel reality that we had lost Ben, and with him, a part of ourselves. There was no warning. No preceding illness. It was a weekend like any other when grief and sorrow overtook our lives.

The following Monday morning, we learned by chance that his friends were making a final search attempt. We decided to join in. As we headed out to sea, it rained heavily and the sea became alarmingly choppy. Yet, as we neared Horsburgh Lighthouse, the waters calmed. The sun emerged and bathed the sea in the golden glow of the setting sun. Just behind the lighthouse, a rainbow appeared. For the first time, we saw the beauty and serenity of the place and not the danger and treachery that we had in the last week come to associate it with.

We did not find Ben that day, but we believe that we had been brought out that Monday for a purpose - so that we could bring a message back to everyone else at home that Ben was at peace and that we need not have worried further.

In the year since, we continue to try to come to terms with Ben's passing. We never 'found' Ben as such, but through the things said of him by his friends, his secretary, his clients and the many people, both within and outside the profession, who had so spontaneously and generously stepped forward to offer their help and support (and for which we are very grateful), we did find that Ben had generously shared his warmth, humility and exuberance for life not just with his family, but also with everyone else around him.

That Ben had had such a short existence on this earth and that he had to be taken away at his prime, remains cause for us to grieve. But for us to have had the privilege of his being variously our son, husband, brother and friend, and for our lives to have been so deeply and meaningfully touched by so beautiful a person, we are grateful and proud.

God bless, dear brother, until we meet again.

Edward Lam
Alban Tay Mahtani & de Silva
&
Lam Chung Nian
Lee & Lee