But I thought ... this would be some sort of respect for her anyway.
On Sunday, 27th June, 2009,
My father, mother and I went back to my mother's hometown to see my grandmother.
My aunt thought that something was wrong,
Hoping that we would see her,
Since it was quite some time that my father and I hadn't had a chance to see her.
So early in the morning,
We went back,
I had no objections because I didn't want to have any regrets.
I saw her,
She looked different,
Her breaths were short,
Like a crying person,
Taking in quick breaths,
But much more suffering.
Just looking at her,
I felt like crying.
She must be going through a painful situation,
And I have no idea whether is she still mentally conscious,
Or just struggling to stay alive.
To think that,
I had no feelings during the camp's crying session.
The last time I felt like crying when I saw my grandmother,
Was when she just admitted into the hospital.
It's been around 7 months since then.
So later that evening,
All of us, including my relatives,
Went out for an early dinner.
While waiting for the dishes to be served,
My aunt received a call from her neighbour,
Saying that there was some urgent matter that happened at home.
Half of the people present rushed back,
Leaving my cousin, her children, my father and I.
So we ate,
Thinking that it was probably someone who stopped by to visit my grandmother,
Since no one called to update us on anything.
Wondering why were they taking so long,
My father called.
My grandmother passed away.
We rushed back,
I tried thinking about other possibilities,
Like my father misheard or somehow they passed the wrong message.
That couldn't happen.
How could one misheard death?
I saw a couple of my uncle's friend there,
Taking down some stuff,
Walking in and out.
I walked in,
Went into my grandmother's bedroom,
Saw her lying on her bed,
There was no mistake.
Her soul has left.
I grabbed her cold hand,
And tears started to flow.
Other relatives were walking around,
Making phone calls,
Taking down red decorations in the house,
Being busy and all.
I just ... cried.
My mother decided to stay,
While my father and I went back to pack some stuff,
And come back the next morning.
I continued to cry in the car,
Trying to hold it back,
Even though I knew I shouldn't.
In the end,
I cried myself to sleep.
I woke up,
And since then,
I never cried.
The next morning,
My father and I arrived in my mother's hometown again.
All the furniture was moved away,
And my grandmother's body was in the middle of the living room.
Processions followed after processions,
Lifting her into a coffin,
Nailing it shut,
Preparing offerings and everything.
They had some Taoist/Buddhist procession,
That lasted for 6 hours.
Even though knowing that I'm a Christian,
I shouldn't be involved in other religious ceremonies,
I just followed.
And didn't like a single bit of it,
Constantly wondering how would this do any good to my deceased grandmother.
But in respect for her,
And for my relatives,
I just did everything ordered.
6 hours straight of processions,
Somehow carried my mind away from my grandmother's death,
Hoping that the procession would end soon.
The next morning,
We had to walk in our socks for a few kilometers,
Following the car that carried the coffin.
Went to a graveyard in Teluk Intan,
Where my grandfather that I never saw was buried there,
And my grandmother was to be buried right beside him.
But I was still sad over my grandmother's death.
Went back home,
Had to prepare for school and everything.
Back to life, I guess.
I guess I didn't had any regrets,
It was as if my grandmother struggled till she saw my father, mother and I,
Before leaving this cruel world.
Although I'm not the best grandchild out there,
I'm grateful that she has showered me with her love,
And naggings of course.
In loving memory of my beloved grandmother.