I have held back this entry for a long time. Reading my Aunt Julia's entry titled "The End Of A Journey, The Continuation Of Another" brought back vivid memories of my beloved and dearest grandpa.

For those of you who do not know,

I loved him a lot.

Usually, when a sad thing happens in my life, I tend not to talk about it for fear of making myself think too much. I do have a tendency to think about stuff, more often that not.

I remember the day when Grandpa had a stroke. It wasn't just the first time, it was the 2nd time already. Yet I wasn't around to experience the first as I was in school for a camp. That night he had a stroke, would be his second and last.

I remember eating dinner with my brother and mom when the phone rang. As usual, nobody bothered to answer it.

After much endless bugging, my brother finally got off his chair and picked up the phone. He said, "Hello?" in a rather annoyed way, annoyed I guess about the person who interrupted our dinner.

"Hello?"
Long silence.
"Oh."
Silence again.
"Mummy, Ye Ye fainted. He's going to hospital now."

A surge of emotions rushed through me.

I was rather shocked and a little non-plussed. I was shocked because it was so sudden to have it happen during dinner time. On the contrary, I was non-plussed because it wasn't the first time that Grandpa's gonna be admitted to a hospital. Thinking about it now, I feel ashamed and angry of my uncaring nature.

We rushed off to the hospital after dinner. I remember asking my mom, "Do we have to go? I have to study for my O levels next week."

I can't believe I asked that.

In the car, the journey was long and silent. The radio was tuned to 95.8FM, but we weren't listening to it. This was a certain channel my brother and I hated fervently, just because it was in Chinese and played cheesy oldie songs. But this time, nobody complained. It was my Grandpa's favourite radio station as he would often hum along to Teresa Tseng's soulful voice. That night, we just let her voice fill the entire wispy dry atmosphere.

When we reached the hospital, we found out we were the last to arrive. Daddy had got off his job and was among the first to reach there, so was Uncle Richard. And Aunt Julia with her husband, Uncle Ricky. My grandma was also there already.

They were looking at a screen which showed an x-ray of Gramp's brain. I then listened, or rather tried to, listen to the Doctor who was explaining the process of "what-went-wrong". Except that he was explaining it in cheem terms, and he used another term for the simple word "brain", which I forgot. During the explanation, I just stared at the x-ray and thousands of images ran through my head.

Memories from childhood, spent with Grandpa in his old house. We used to sit on the swing on warm nights after dinner and he would rock it gently, sometimes telling me stories. No matter what, he would also buy my brother and I sweets every time he came home from work, as we always pestered him.

My grandma was a firm believer that we ought to steer away from all foods that are cold, as she thought they were unhealthy, and I was banned from eating anything-that-was-cold when I was young. That included soft drinks, ice cream, chilled sandwiches, salad and the likes. Only my grandpa brought me and my brother out to eat ice cream every now and then, which was a major luxury then. He would also sneak us out to Macdonald's to eat fries, which was also a major no-no and would cause much disapproval and scoldings from my Grandma.

I loved my Grandpa so.
For his caring, warm and simple nature.

What if he passed away? What if he's going to go... just like that?

As I stared at the x-ray, I felt my eyes brim with tears. All I could hear was the doctor saying stuff like, "Right brain... Left brain... Freeze... Comatose position... Be prepared..." and I felt my nose stiffen and my heart ached so much, I wanted to keep pinching myself to see if it was just a dream.

Or perhaps a really bad nightmare.

I was urged to control my tears and I just stared at the x-ray, with the doctor's voice droning on in my head. It seemed so much like Biology lessons. I felt vacant and very distant. The picture of the x-ray slowly blurred, as more tears collected in my eye ducts. It was threatening to spill over.

Then, a lone tear drop rolled down my cheek.

And another.
My nose turned sour.
Images of times spent with my Grandpa kept running through my head, like movies playing without sound.

I could not control myself any longer.

I suddenly burst into tears, and sobbed and sobbed.

Everybody looked at me unexpectedly, some were shocked. What's a grand daughter doing crying in the middle of the emergency room when her grandpa's only in a coma, and the sons and daughters aren't even doing anything. My mom took my arm and tried to calm me down, then it didn't work. She tried to hug me.

But there I was crying and sobbing loudly, making a fool of myself in the emergency room but I did not care. My grandpa took the place over anything in the world then, and I did not care. I could hear the footsteps of passersby and still I sobbed uncontrollably.

I really loved him.
I could not bear to lose him.

That night, I was reluctant to go home, but still I did. I knew what was going to happen but I wasn't prepared for it.

I cried in the car home, and when I reached home.
I cried to sleep.
I felt as though I was crying till my eyes would dry out.
They turned puffy and swollen.

The next day, Grandpa passed away. 0 Comments