Just came back from my grandma’s funeral. She passed away on Sunday night, and today, we cremated her.
She was all of 91 years old and had taken care of me while I was young. I’m her oldest grandson by virtue of age. I can’t really recall a lot of fond memories of the past now, save for just two :-
The first one was when I tried to imitate the lion dancers by putting a paper bag over my head and prancing around to imaginary drum beats. My enthusiasm and “method acting” resulted in me banging my head against the top corner of a kerosene can, which resulted in a deep gash that needed whole lot of stitches (you can still see the almost Harry Potterish scar). Grandma was there when it happened and she kept scolding and scolding me even as she escorted me to hospital. On hindsight, I guess this was the earliest indication of my passion for acting.
She continued to scold and nag after I got discharged, thereby building in me from young, a surprising resilience to nagging. For the record, I did prance again with the paper bag, but only in her absence and by not totally covering my eyes. The novelty soon wore off though.
The second incident was when I got into my first fight, which was in kindergarten. My grandma told me that it required her and three other adults to pull me away from my “victim” and she kept harping and harping about it during my recuperation period from disfigurement. (Kenna disfigured cuz the wuss of a kid scratched my face instead of punching/kicking me. Long nails he has)
After NS, I saw less and less of my grandma. In fact we only saw her during Chinese New Year. I stand guilty as charge for not maintaining the relationship after adulthood had set in and I got more and more preoccupied with my own life. My grandpa had passed away 14 years ago and I can only imagine how lonely she must have been all these while; and I have not done much at all to alleviate her loneliness.
Thankfully, not all her grandchildren are as heartless or self-absorbed as me. I could tell from the wake that a few of them were truly sad and were deeply mourning for her.
I don’t cry at funerals but as we partake in the last rites today, in particular the walking behind the coffin part, a wave of emotion came over me as I recall this woman who had cared for me deeply and was always so proud of my meager achievements.
Heck, even as I’m writing this, I’m fighting back the tears.
Although she had lived a long life, hers was certainly not the way to go, and the only comfort we had I guess was that death was ultimately a release for her. She had been paralytic for almost a year and had lost the ability to speak coherently as well. She had bed sores as a result of this, and the bed sores were so bad that you could even see her bones.
So in her final days at the hospital, she struggled to talk. But we couldn’t make out what she was trying to say. So her last words, whatever they may be, were really lost on us.
I knew one of her greatest wish was to see me get married. It’s not difficult to imagine her surviving so many years after grandpa died just to drink her intended grand-daughter-in-law’s tea. But alas in this respect I have failed her miserably.
Although I couldn’t hear any of her last words to me, the last thing I said to her was not to worry, I will find someone, and I will marry.
So be at peace and rest, Ah Ma.
