Edlyn Yap                                           

It has been said that it gets harder and harder to make new friends. New colleagues perhaps, or even new acquaintances, but true friends are rare. In a profession that emphasises the development of professional judgment, perhaps we have become too quick to judge, too critical and too cynical. 

Those who knew Edlyn would agree that Edlyn was not like that. She made friends quickly and very easily. We were then but young associates working long hours together many days a week.  Edlyn’s personality quickly integrated her into the firm. 

It was hard not to like her when she was always so open, so cheerful, so positive and so full of life. We bonded easily over quick lunches and late dinners, swapping courtroom stories and bouncing legal ideas off each other.  

We also did what all associates did: we groused about the workload, the deadlines, the expectations, opposing counsel and just about everything that was part of the lot of a junior associate. We also shared our little triumphs and counted our blessings that we had our little network for support.

Edlyn was hardworking, meticulous and resilient when it came to work. But she was also fun-loving, vivacious and spirited. We started to hang out together after work, discovering similar interests and viewpoints.  She had a genuineness and sincerity that endeared her to us all.

Outside of work, Edlyn had a wide circle of friends. In conversations, she would often mention them in passing but it was clear to us that she was close to many of them, with some of her friendships dating back from her early years at school.

Amongst us, Edlyn was also the one with the camera. She loved taking snapshots at parties, at dinners and on firm trips. She wanted to capture every single moment and file them neatly away in scrapbooks and albums for posterity. 

Our days together as colleagues passed quickly. Eventually, we all moved on. Edlyn’s path took her to Hong Kong where she first worked in advertising and later in publishing. In between, she found time to pursue a language course in Beijing and took the opportunity to travel extensively in China. 

Even then, she took the time to keep in touch. From time to time, she would send us lengthy e-mails chronicling her adventures and travel experiences. Often those e-mails would end with special messages for each of her friends. We used to marvel at how Edlyn always found time for everyone. Edlyn would carefully plan her schedule weeks before she made a trip back to Singapore just to make sure that she had time to meet up with as many friends as possible.

The last time we met, it was over dinner. She was home for a few days to visit her family and catch up with friends. Her schedule was packed (as always) and our meeting was brief, but we could see that she was happy.

We had read about and watched the news on the tsunami. But we never imagined that it was to affect us on such a personal level. Then came that dreadful Tuesday morning when we heard that Edlyn had been a casualty. Her passing came to us as a shock and we reacted with utter disbelief at first. But the confirmation came quickly. Edlyn was one of the first Singaporeans to have been identified. Everything seemed surreal, and we huddled together for comfort. Death was so indiscriminating; she was one of the good ones.

Attending her send off at Mandai was difficult and emotional. As we watched her flower strewn casket disappear behind closed doors, the realisation that we had lost a true friend 
hit home.

How does one set aside the invincibility of youth and face the mortality of life? Letting go is never easy, and coping with the loss of someone so young and vibrant, doubly hard. But Edlyn lived her life without regrets, and enjoyed every moment of it. That is comfort to us. We will remember her dearly and cherish fond memories of the close friendship we had.

Elaine Chao and Emily Low

Jones Day and  Allen & Gledhill