Grandpa passed away on Monday October 3rd, 2011. It was a shock and is still unbelievable to me. Everything happened within 1 day… 1 single day~ to me… I’m still putting puzzles together, although it’s painful to recall, but I believe this is well deserved for me to write about it.
Monday morning, a regular day. Got a call around 9 or 9:30am from mom. She said she was called while on her way to work, to go straight to Mr. Lai’s place for a special worship for grandpa. And we’re told to do one in the evening and another one in the late night. Grandpa was in Canada, and that morning he woke up feeling really bad, and almost fell down when he wanted to stand up from the bed. He struggled himself to get help from Mr. Hung, his good friend whom he is staying with while in Canada. They got someone to massage him and when my mom called around 11am Belize time, he was already feeling better. She got to talk to him. Who knew that was the last time he got to talk with his family here in Belize. I don’t really know how everything happened, I’m merely putting things I gathered here. They took him into the hospital and then found out that he has water in the lung. Though the treatment must be indeed painful, he was relieved knowing it’s in the lung and not outside. Condition got stabled. In the evening, we went for the special worship. I still manage to go to the Self-Defense Class, for the last time. I was quite late, so I didn’t even really participated in the class, I just watched. Not soon after I get home and ate, we got another call from my aunt in Taiwan. She rushed us to do the last special worship, and 2 rounds as well, because grandpa was in critical condition, there’re more water in the lung, later I heard outside as well, and his heart beats was between 50 and 70. We hurriedly change our clothing and head towards Brian’s home for the worship. Before we left, Mickey lit a handful of incents by the altar at home, praying that everything will be just fine. On the way, my mom called our friends in 25 miles to ask them to do the worship together. The gentlemen started first. Right after they finished the first round, Mickey got a call. He gave my mom the phone and went back for the second round. I stood inside, twisting my fingers, praying in my mind that no kind of my negative thought is to become true. I told myself, whatever I imaging ahead of time, always doesn’t happened as how I imaging, so will this one. Apparently, it is still outside of my imagination as it comes in such a rush, even now I still cannot take it as real. That was the bad news call right there. I waited inside for 10 seconds, I guess. It felt like 5 minutes had already passed, and my mom is still outside talking. So I went out, only to see mom bawling in tears, having a break down while still on the phone. I knew what had happened… Brian’s mom came out, and of course, she got the news too. We all got in our tears. Mrs. Lin was the one that went in and announce the news to the gentlemen who were still worshipping. It was really tough to take, and could never able to bear. Everyone was crying and bawling. My mom was still able to call in too much tears to grandpa’s near friend in 25 miles to tell him of the news, and asked him what to do next, because we were all shocked and lost. They said they will gather other friends to come and set the altar in my home for the next day, as our tradition requires. We got home, in silent tears. And break down home, one by one. Mickey the worst. I’ve never saw him like that. Dad too. And I break down while in shower. We started to clean the home a bit and try to put together things that we’ll need for tomorrow. We’re all very tired, sad, yet so sad that we don’t feel like resting even in the exhaustion. It wasn’t hard to fall asleep though, just had to manage to get myself into the bed. I went to bed around 3 in the morning.
The next day, they came, all in sorrow. We set up the altar in our living room, and started to offer fruit, tea and food for the deceased. The moment we saw the altar completed, tears caught up with us again. Mickey and my parents wanted to go from that same day, but was not able to get a seat until the next day, Wednesday. My aunt who was in Taiwan, who usually accompany grandpa on his travel, except this same one, got onto a plane on the same night, which was Tuesday morning for us, to go to Canada. She told my granny that grandpa was not feeling well, so she had to go. So she send granny to stay with another aunt. Granny later told Mickey that she knew by the expression from my aunt of what happened, but she just didn’t say it. Mickey and my parents caught the Wednesday’s flight to go to Seattle through Houston, so that my dad can try to get visa on arrival, since his Taiwanese passport is very much expired. Two other friend went to get them by the airport, took them to hotel and overnight at Seattle, and go to the boarder for visa. Everything was done smoothly. All my aunts, except one who cannot leave US, arrive that same night with my granny, accompanied by Phoebe, my cousin. Friday evening, the funeral home receive my grandpa’s body from the hospital. My family then can go and see his body at the funeral home. They’re usually close on Saturday, but the funeral home worker was kind enough for them to go and see him on Saturday. All the while, I was home with Jason. Jason still goes to school, but I had applied for compassionate leave. Friends come to help and accompany us day and night, by turn. And all came and help in great deal on the 1st seventh day. So do they come on the 2nd, the 3rd, and the 4th. It’s Saturday today, and by tomorrow it’ll be the 5th seventh day. They will go too, since we’re not home. They indeed helped a lot. Friends in need are friends indeed…
Even after all these, I still cannot accept the fact that my grandpa had passed away. He is like a superman, and a hero. Superman doesn’t die. Hero shouldn’t die… I’ve never thought that death will take him away. I’ve never thought that it is so soon. Grandpa was a senior member in our belief system. Since I started to remember things happened around us, he is usually out. In fact, he doesn’t live with us, he lived in the holy house he established in another city in Taiwan. We didn’t really mind, because he was so strict. We respected him a lot, or were even timid, when he is around. He had contributed almost his entire life toward the truth, even until his last breathe. To me, personally, he is well respected. And I feel ashamed of myself on the bad deeds I did, when I see him, even when he doesn’t know what I did. Grandpa travels a lot for the works that he had committed himself to. He travel through countries such as Taiwan, Japan, Malaysia, Canada, USA, Belize, El Salvador, and much more. He’d never complained through hot and cold, and the difference of time zone. He is like a superman in this sense. Like almost a saint in my mind. Although I know one day everyone will die, and it may looks as if it takes me forever long to have my mind registering the fact, which I still hadn’t, but it just really feel unreal. Maybe I had made him a superman in my mind, and neglecting the fact that he is still a human being.
I still cry a lot, especially when…
I talk to him, realizing that that will be the only way of communication. No more hearing his voice and see him in person. I come to the thought that I had never and will never EVER have a Lunar New Year Eve dinner with him. I remember that he had always thought of us. Always tries to be funny at dinner table, making jokes to try to get close to us. Bringing stuffs for us. Wanting to talk to us. Giving us lectures to try to make us a better being. Proudly show us his iPod that he just got for his birthday, this same last time he came.
Yet… I’m still sinning… And more than many times I feel that I don’t fit the title of being his grand-daughter. I had let him down. And I continued to let him down. I ask myself if I have a heart, and if yes, I question if it’s black. If I can forget what had happened so fast.
I’m still very much in sorrow, and still cannot pull my senses together to accept what had happened. I guess I just need my eyes to prove it to myself. Like now, I’m on my flight to Vancouver, and somewhere inside me still feel lost and wandering what am I doing on a airplane. I know what had happened. I just CANNOT UNDERSTAND it… I feel it in my emotion, but I still can’t sense it in my logic. Maybe that’s why I could sometimes feel as if nothing had happened, because it doesn’t feel real to me, at all.
[This is more than just a nightmare, and it’s even a long one…]
