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Because I'm not comfortable with posting this on Facebook and making this so amenable to Likes:

Dear Mrs Yeap,

If only you could remember the 13 year old who grovelled to you about being forced into the choir... Look at me now. I love singing, I love choir, I love the music that you taught me about from the very beginning. It's so hard to shed any tears - I can't shed a tear at all - because I don't regret any second of doing what I did in school and am even planning to do now and in the future. I'm so incredibly blessed you refused to let me go, kept me in with your strong-headedness, saying how much fun I'd have in Perth, playing candlelight soccer, performing on stage, so many things we've done in four terribly short years.

I will also now say that you were an inspiration to us all, and even saying that you motivated us all the way would be grossly shortchanging you of your amazing dedication, one that I used to be skeptical about but am now utterly, and humbly, convinced of. You were as knitted to the choir as much as the music we sang ,and for that I thank you. You've taught me the mysterious beauty of chords (I will always remember Happy Chords, Sad Chords and Diminished Chords because I do this in jest, and now with a somewhat burdening saudade) and the gorgeous aesthetics of sounds and harmonies and resonances. I love that these things are going to stick with me for life, and in these wonderful moments you do live on.

Once I laughed when you told us you believed that everyone has a guardian angel in heaven watching over us. I still don't quite believe that, but in a metaphorical way that just completely makes sense now, because you will always be with XM Chorale, in every song we sing, moving quietly through the bars and the notes, there in every breath, every final bow.