Okay, I know I haven't been blogging. And I haven't been blogging because I would wanna talk about my grandpa but I needed a break from all that crying. So now it's daytime and raining, and it's been a week. So I'd try.
All the time, I wonder if it meant something when I was crying so hard in the middle of the night that day... My mum opened my room door to find me sitting in bed, crying my eyes out. She asked me what the matter was, and I started bawling like a baby. I couldn't catch my breath to tell her why, and she asked if it was Grandpa. And I nodded my head. She said it was okay because the doctor said there might be a miracle and he might wake up, but I think she was just trying to make me feel better because all that time I was crying, my grandfather was struggling in the hospital. If what my mum said were true, she wouldn't be crying either. I had a thought to rush down to see him right then and there, but I didn't... And then less than 2 hours later, my mum told me that he cannot make it anymore and we ought to go down to the hospital right away. Tell me this isn't a coincidence.
The wake lasted for 5 days. Everyday, I would make my way down from home to be present. And like almost everyday, I would turn up and break down in tears. That first day right after the hospital, of course I couldn't stop crying. I was sitting in a corner of the hospital lobby crying my eyes out. The only time I made any noise was when I rushed into his room to call his name, screaming for him to wake up. My grandpa left at 7.43am, and I was there till about 2 in the afternoon. They wheeled his body out covered with a white blanket to a private room, white and empty. He was already dressed in his favourite outfit by then, with all of us surrounding him, looking at his cold, lifeless body. I was staring at his chest and concentrating so hard, as if if I stared hard enough, he'd start breathing again. But gone is gone, he left forever.
The wake began in the afternoon, and my grandpa's body came in the lorry. They made us all kneel on the floor when they brought in his body, and I burst into tears seeing his form in a body bag. Yes, I saw my grandfather in a body bag. I don't know how the Buddhists do it but I don't think they should have shown me that because it was a disturbing sight. After the body then did they bring in the coffin. I didn't talk to anyone at the wake 'cos all I cared about was crying. The only people I'd talk to were my friends, on the phone. I wanted to get away, so in the night, I went over to look for my friend at his place. I thought I'd feel better if there were someone to hold me and be with me while I tried to sleep, but it turned out to be no different. I couldn't stop crying. He had an early morning and I couldn't sleep and neither could he, with me sobbing next to him. In the end, I had to go home, so I took a cab back to the wake. My uncle was surprised to see me, and I told him I couldn't sleep, I wanted to see Grandpa. And I walked up to the coffin and cried and cried, and my uncle in mock anger, said, "Tsk. Stop crying. He knows, he knows. Stop cryingggg." He even stretched out his hand to keep my distance from the coffin so my tears wouldn't land on the wood. It was only later that I found out people believed the deceased would feel sad too if tears landed on the coffin. *sHrUgS* I don't know how true that is.
I realised I'd been crying for more than 24 hours after that, and trust me, it's not a nice feeling to have. 2nd day of the wake, it was the same. I dragged my feet downstairs, and then my mum said, "Go offer a joss stick, tell Grandpa you're here." So I walked to the altar, took a joss stick, lighted it and offered it up. Stood there for 3 seconds, and then my face crumpled up and my hands went up to my face to wipe my eyes. Crying. Again. Cry, cry, cry. My aunt, my uncle... They were all telling me not to cry, but how to not cry?! You tell me, tell me. How do you not cry? My aunt invited monks from Tibet or Thailand (I can't remember and I don't really bother) to perform some rituals and chanting in the night, and I knelt there sobbing, sobbing... It was so tiring, I was exhausted... But I couldn't help it. Seeing his picture on that altar and that body in the coffin was not what I wanted to see.
The 3rd day wasn't too bad because everyone played Monopoly and we made sooooo much noise. My mum said it was fine 'cos my grandpa wouldn't blame us. I believe he wouldn't too. I didn't walk up to the altar for the whole of that day 'cos I know myself, and I know I would cry again if I did. I know, avoidance. I felt bad, but what was I to do? On that 4th day, I did see him, and I was trying so hard not to cry, but it was hard. A monk came to chant again, for so long. We knelt there and fooled around, trying to hold our joss sticks straight and keep the ash there as long as possible and flicking ash at each other. Out of that 4 days, I heard so many "he knows" from my aunt and my uncles but that didn't make me feel better. How could it possibly? They don't know where he is, they don't know what he's thinking anymore and he isn't around to tell us. The last day was the funeral procession early in the morning. It was a glum, miserable day. It was the day to say goodbye. As we made our way out of the carpark on foot, all my grandpa's neighbours came out to say goodbye too. When I was younger, my mum always told me not to stare at funeral processions, but then I could feel everyone's eyes on us. I wonder if their parents taught them anything.
My grandpa was cremated. On the way back to the crematorium to collect his ashes, I was sitting on the coach alone, trying to take a nap. Suddenly I felt a presence on my right, and the hairs on my right arm stood up. I opened my eyes, thinking someone walked past. But there was no one. So I closed my eyes and leaned back again. And then there was that presence again. Thrice, it happened. I don't know if it was my grandpa. At the crematorium, all of us were brought into a room and his ashes were laid out for us to see. There were parts of his bones that were black 'cos of the medication he took, and there were green specks on a few, which according to my relatives, was a good sign. And there part of his skull was, in the middle of all of it. My dear grandpa. All of it was put into a red cloth bundle and brought to the temple in Bedok. Each of us took a part of his bones and put it into the urn. His ashes are now at the temple, along with 23156753410237672 people's ashes.
On the way back home, my grandma told us that my grandfather had another wife. They were match-made since a very, very young age, but the girl died of sickness when she was just 3 years old. And then my grandparents got married and had my mum and my aunt and uncles. But they had to call her "Aunt" in Fuchou instead of "Mum" because Wife No. 1 said my grandma's children were hers, and if they called her "Mum", she'd take them away one by one, which meant my mum would die, and then my uncle, my aunt... etc. And I wouldn't even be here. I thought that sounded real sinister... I don't know if it's worth believing, but well, a bit of family history wouldn't hurt.
I wonder where Grandpa is right now. I'd like to think he's in Heaven and God is taking care of him. How does Heaven work? There is no hate, and everyone is friends with everyone else. So will I see him again? Maybe in 6 decades? Will he recognise me when I see him, or will we not know each other anymore even though we are friendly? Would he know I was once his granddaughter? The Chinese believe that the spirit comes back on the 7th day, but according to my grandma, my grandpa didn't come back because the food looked untouched. On that 7th day, we cooked him his favourite food. My grandma made eggs with prawns, as well as red wine chicken, my sister bought his favourite KFC and my mum cooked some kind of rice noodles thing. It's a Fuchou delicacy, along with that red wine chicken that I have been eating since I was young. I don't know what you call it in English (I only know how to say it in Fuchou), and I know it looks weird here but it is absolutely amazingly delicious:
I love it, it's my favourite along with all that chilli padi. I can eat 3 bowls of that size. Grandpa loved it too. I miss him... I wish I'd spent more time with him during his last days. My grandma at his wake:
And my grandpa, when he was still well and healthy:
How cute is he........ He might be gone now but I still think of him every single day because he will always be my grandpa.
My sister dreamt of Grandpa telling her, "Silly girl, don't cry." It wasn't even MY dream and yet I wanted to cry when I heard that because he always called us "silly girl" whenever we really were silly. I think he doesn't want us all to cry, but like I said, it's hard. I'd really die if I didn't cry.
Thanks to all who came down to the wake, I really appreciate it. And thanks to Janise who sent flowers because she had to clear her workload and couldn't make her way down... And to a special someone, who's been really sweet to me, even though he couldn't make me feel better... But it's not his fault... I needed to cry on my own. He did nice things, dropping me a message online to say, "Smile, you're beautiful! :)" and asking if I needed him to pick up any food, letting me cry on his shoulder, holding me, calling up the next day to check on me and make sure I was okay. Thanks to my girl-friends too... You know who you are. I am still grieving and I don't know if I'd ever go one day without missing my grandpa, and I know some days might be harder than others because I wouldn't sleep well and I'd have nightmares... etc. Hope everything would be better soon.
Yesterday, my friend bought me a new fan for my upcoming birthday 'cos the one I had was dying on me. Went to Courts and got this:
It's digital and has a remote control so I don't have to leave my bed to switch it:
After that was my birthday dinner treat, which was seafood at Tanjong Pagar. Finally, finally caught a nice shot of the Singapore Flyer on the way there!:
Another one:
Dinner:
Ordered the usual dishes with an extra 2:
Happened to drop by the area behind the Singapore Indoor Stadium. I didn't know it was that nice!:
Me!:
Camwhoring in the car (sorry I had to pin up my hair 'cos I didn't go trim my fringe):
Birthday in 3 days and yet I still don't know what I should do. Been thinking about stuff... I don't know what I'm worth, and if I should just go and stop wasting time. Or my heart, for that matter. When it starts to hurt and alarm bells start to go off, isn't it better to go before the fire burns you? *sIgH* I don't know, maybe I'd have a talk about it.
Finally went to trim my fringe just now. I hate to go because I'm always being made to wait like that...:
It's SO ANNOYING! =.= Anyway, Avril's KL concert was cancelled, then postponed... And now it's back on again. They said it would be too much trouble to refund the tickets and it would hurt tourism... etc. YES, YES, CORRECT. Go ahead with the show, I say. That's great. My grandpa's blessings. =) I think he'd want me to be happy. I'm staying in a hotel like this!:
Not too bad, right? I've been walking around the house singing Avril songs at the top of my lungs for the past day or so. Can't wait. Won't be in town from 28th August till 30th August.
Okay, I know I haven't been blogging. And I haven't been blogging because I would wanna talk about my grandpa but I needed a break from all that crying. So now it's daytime and raining, and it's been a week. So I'd try.
All the time, I wonder if it meant something when I was crying so hard in the middle of the night that day... My mum opened my room door to find me sitting in bed, crying my eyes out. She asked me what the matter was, and I started bawling like a baby. I couldn't catch my breath to tell her why, and she asked if it was Grandpa. And I nodded my head. She said it was okay because the doctor said there might be a miracle and he might wake up, but I think she was just trying to make me feel better because all that time I was crying, my grandfather was struggling in the hospital. If what my mum said were true, she wouldn't be crying either. I had a thought to rush down to see him right then and there, but I didn't... And then less than 2 hours later, my mum told me that he cannot make it anymore and we ought to go down to the hospital right away. Tell me this isn't a coincidence.
The wake lasted for 5 days. Everyday, I would make my way down from home to be present. And like almost everyday, I would turn up and break down in tears. That first day right after the hospital, of course I couldn't stop crying. I was sitting in a corner of the hospital lobby crying my eyes out. The only time I made any noise was when I rushed into his room to call his name, screaming for him to wake up. My grandpa left at 7.43am, and I was there till about 2 in the afternoon. They wheeled his body out covered with a white blanket to a private room, white and empty. He was already dressed in his favourite outfit by then, with all of us surrounding him, looking at his cold, lifeless body. I was staring at his chest and concentrating so hard, as if if I stared hard enough, he'd start breathing again. But gone is gone, he left forever.
The wake began in the afternoon, and my grandpa's body came in the lorry. They made us all kneel on the floor when they brought in his body, and I burst into tears seeing his form in a body bag. Yes, I saw my grandfather in a body bag. I don't know how the Buddhists do it but I don't think they should have shown me that because it was a disturbing sight. After the body then did they bring in the coffin. I didn't talk to anyone at the wake 'cos all I cared about was crying. The only people I'd talk to were my friends, on the phone. I wanted to get away, so in the night, I went over to look for my friend at his place. I thought I'd feel better if there were someone to hold me and be with me while I tried to sleep, but it turned out to be no different. I couldn't stop crying. He had an early morning and I couldn't sleep and neither could he, with me sobbing next to him. In the end, I had to go home, so I took a cab back to the wake. My uncle was surprised to see me, and I told him I couldn't sleep, I wanted to see Grandpa. And I walked up to the coffin and cried and cried, and my uncle in mock anger, said, "Tsk. Stop crying. He knows, he knows. Stop cryingggg." He even stretched out his hand to keep my distance from the coffin so my tears wouldn't land on the wood. It was only later that I found out people believed the deceased would feel sad too if tears landed on the coffin. *sHrUgS* I don't know how true that is.
I realised I'd been crying for more than 24 hours after that, and trust me, it's not a nice feeling to have. 2nd day of the wake, it was the same. I dragged my feet downstairs, and then my mum said, "Go offer a joss stick, tell Grandpa you're here." So I walked to the altar, took a joss stick, lighted it and offered it up. Stood there for 3 seconds, and then my face crumpled up and my hands went up to my face to wipe my eyes. Crying. Again. Cry, cry, cry. My aunt, my uncle... They were all telling me not to cry, but how to not cry?! You tell me, tell me. How do you not cry? My aunt invited monks from Tibet or Thailand (I can't remember and I don't really bother) to perform some rituals and chanting in the night, and I knelt there sobbing, sobbing... It was so tiring, I was exhausted... But I couldn't help it. Seeing his picture on that altar and that body in the coffin was not what I wanted to see.
The 3rd day wasn't too bad because everyone played Monopoly and we made sooooo much noise. My mum said it was fine 'cos my grandpa wouldn't blame us. I believe he wouldn't too. I didn't walk up to the altar for the whole of that day 'cos I know myself, and I know I would cry again if I did. I know, avoidance. I felt bad, but what was I to do? On that 4th day, I did see him, and I was trying so hard not to cry, but it was hard. A monk came to chant again, for so long. We knelt there and fooled around, trying to hold our joss sticks straight and keep the ash there as long as possible and flicking ash at each other. Out of that 4 days, I heard so many "he knows" from my aunt and my uncles but that didn't make me feel better. How could it possibly? They don't know where he is, they don't know what he's thinking anymore and he isn't around to tell us. The last day was the funeral procession early in the morning. It was a glum, miserable day. It was the day to say goodbye. As we made our way out of the carpark on foot, all my grandpa's neighbours came out to say goodbye too. When I was younger, my mum always told me not to stare at funeral processions, but then I could feel everyone's eyes on us. I wonder if their parents taught them anything.
My grandpa was cremated. On the way back to the crematorium to collect his ashes, I was sitting on the coach alone, trying to take a nap. Suddenly I felt a presence on my right, and the hairs on my right arm stood up. I opened my eyes, thinking someone walked past. But there was no one. So I closed my eyes and leaned back again. And then there was that presence again. Thrice, it happened. I don't know if it was my grandpa. At the crematorium, all of us were brought into a room and his ashes were laid out for us to see. There were parts of his bones that were black 'cos of the medication he took, and there were green specks on a few, which according to my relatives, was a good sign. And there part of his skull was, in the middle of all of it. My dear grandpa. All of it was put into a red cloth bundle and brought to the temple in Bedok. Each of us took a part of his bones and put it into the urn. His ashes are now at the temple, along with 23156753410237672 people's ashes.
On the way back home, my grandma told us that my grandfather had another wife. They were match-made since a very, very young age, but the girl died of sickness when she was just 3 years old. And then my grandparents got married and had my mum and my aunt and uncles. But they had to call her "Aunt" in Fuchou instead of "Mum" because Wife No. 1 said my grandma's children were hers, and if they called her "Mum", she'd take them away one by one, which meant my mum would die, and then my uncle, my aunt... etc. And I wouldn't even be here. I thought that sounded real sinister... I don't know if it's worth believing, but well, a bit of family history wouldn't hurt.
I wonder where Grandpa is right now. I'd like to think he's in Heaven and God is taking care of him. How does Heaven work? There is no hate, and everyone is friends with everyone else. So will I see him again? Maybe in 6 decades? Will he recognise me when I see him, or will we not know each other anymore even though we are friendly? Would he know I was once his granddaughter? The Chinese believe that the spirit comes back on the 7th day, but according to my grandma, my grandpa didn't come back because the food looked untouched. On that 7th day, we cooked him his favourite food. My grandma made eggs with prawns, as well as red wine chicken, my sister bought his favourite KFC and my mum cooked some kind of rice noodles thing. It's a Fuchou delicacy, along with that red wine chicken that I have been eating since I was young. I don't know what you call it in English (I only know how to say it in Fuchou), and I know it looks weird here but it is absolutely amazingly delicious:
I love it, it's my favourite along with all that chilli padi. I can eat 3 bowls of that size. Grandpa loved it too. I miss him... I wish I'd spent more time with him during his last days. My grandma at his wake:
And my grandpa, when he was still well and healthy:
How cute is he........ He might be gone now but I still think of him every single day because he will always be my grandpa.
My sister dreamt of Grandpa telling her, "Silly girl, don't cry." It wasn't even MY dream and yet I wanted to cry when I heard that because he always called us "silly girl" whenever we really were silly. I think he doesn't want us all to cry, but like I said, it's hard. I'd really die if I didn't cry.
Thanks to all who came down to the wake, I really appreciate it. And thanks to Janise who sent flowers because she had to clear her workload and couldn't make her way down... And to a special someone, who's been really sweet to me, even though he couldn't make me feel better... But it's not his fault... I needed to cry on my own. He did nice things, dropping me a message online to say, "Smile, you're beautiful! :)" and asking if I needed him to pick up any food, letting me cry on his shoulder, holding me, calling up the next day to check on me and make sure I was okay. Thanks to my girl-friends too... You know who you are. I am still grieving and I don't know if I'd ever go one day without missing my grandpa, and I know some days might be harder than others because I wouldn't sleep well and I'd have nightmares... etc. Hope everything would be better soon.
Yesterday, my friend bought me a new fan for my upcoming birthday 'cos the one I had was dying on me. Went to Courts and got this:
It's digital and has a remote control so I don't have to leave my bed to switch it:
After that was my birthday dinner treat, which was seafood at Tanjong Pagar. Finally, finally caught a nice shot of the Singapore Flyer on the way there!:
Another one:
Dinner:
Ordered the usual dishes with an extra 2:
Happened to drop by the area behind the Singapore Indoor Stadium. I didn't know it was that nice!:
Me!:
Camwhoring in the car (sorry I had to pin up my hair 'cos I didn't go trim my fringe):
Birthday in 3 days and yet I still don't know what I should do. Been thinking about stuff... I don't know what I'm worth, and if I should just go and stop wasting time. Or my heart, for that matter. When it starts to hurt and alarm bells start to go off, isn't it better to go before the fire burns you? *sIgH* I don't know, maybe I'd have a talk about it.
Finally went to trim my fringe just now. I hate to go because I'm always being made to wait like that...:
It's SO ANNOYING! =.= Anyway, Avril's KL concert was cancelled, then postponed... And now it's back on again. They said it would be too much trouble to refund the tickets and it would hurt tourism... etc. YES, YES, CORRECT. Go ahead with the show, I say. That's great. My grandpa's blessings. =) I think he'd want me to be happy. I'm staying in a hotel like this!:
Not too bad, right? I've been walking around the house singing Avril songs at the top of my lungs for the past day or so. Can't wait. Won't be in town from 28th August till 30th August.
