| Tuesday, June 12, 2007 |
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i've been in and out of the hospital quite often recently - my grandfather has been hosptalised for quite awhile now, due to his Pneumonia and the newly developed Leukemia and seeing him struggle has made me think quite a bit. Like how often we take people for granted. i mean sure, you can scoff at it however you may like, or claim to not be guilty of this charge, but i'm sure, almost everyone has, in one point in their life, taken someone they love, for granted. i'm guilty of neglecting my grandfather. and when i look at him, lying on the hospital bed, i can't help but feel rotten. can't help but feel guilty over the fact that i did not spend enough time with him. can't help but pray, that he would make it out, safely, make it back home.. Saturdays used to be for my grandfather. Saturday mornings would mean breakfast with my grandfather and grandmother, back then, when i was a lot younger, when my grandma was still living. They would bring me out to the market every saturday morning, to the same coffee shop and buy me fishball noodles or roti prata. Gong gong always bought me prata, and would buy me the occasional macdonald's, which was always a treat. He rarely lets me buy candy from the stores and would always scold me whenever i stopped to look at stickers or keychains. Afternoons would mean staying over at gong gong's for tea and dinner, with my aunts and cousins. With him, sometimes taking the bunch of us down to the playground, and having loads of fun till dinnertime. i was only about 7 then. Everything somehow changed when we shifted to our current home. i used to stay in the flat above my grandfather's, and even later on when i shifted, i stayed in the block next to his..it was the last shift, to several streets down, to the current home now, that distanced the whole relationship.. i rarely go back on Saturdays, as i got busy with ECAs/CCAs back then, and would be too exhausted to go over with my dad after getting back from school. and then time passed so quickly, that even before i knew it, i'm 18 now. and still, i've never really made it a point to go back each Saturday. It wasn't just me.. my cousins too, grew up, and each of us had lesser time to go back as we're busy spending the time elsewhere. Saturdays now, belong to cm.. ever since we got together. and as i think back, i recall the numerous times, i told my dad i can't go over because i'm going out with my friends.. i have no idea where all the ramblings are taking me to, but i guess my point is, i regret not spending more Saturdays with my grandfather. when i really should, as i'm the oldest grandchild, who shares his surname, yet he doent get to see much of me.. but i guess, at this point of time, it's too late for regrets.. all i can do is now spend more time with him. whenever i can. i remember, back then, when i was still in primary school, you would go for your daily evening walks with po po and da-shu. you would cook the saturday dinners. you would cook the chinese reunion dinner each year, making the authentic hakka niang dou foo that we both love, and cooking the best chinese soups ever. i remember, how hard you cried when po po passed on. how hard we both cried together at the funeral..for you had lost your wife, and me, my grandma and translator..Po po had always helped us both communicate, and ever since she passed on, we never really could understand each other, could we? Unless daddy or the aunts were around? As you could only roughly understand my chinese, and me, your hakka. But i picked up Hakka for you, and i remember you laughing at my few feeble attempts on using it. I remember how stubborn you used to be, insisting on going for your walks even when you were starting to get weaker, still going down to the market even though you had that nasty fall.. and i remember how happy you were this chinese new year. seeing us in the morning of chu yi, as how it has always been for the past 18 years.. and posing for pictures.... and then i go back to thinking of the image of you lying in your hospital bed today. pleading to be untied. looking at me, when i was holding your hand, hoping that i could attempt to untie you, or maybe loosen the straps a little...and then you flinging my hand away, when you got upset that i did nothing. it hurt me so bad, and it hurts me even more, to hear you demand to be untied and to see you get angry when we didnt do anything. even though we really wanted to, for the fear that you might tug the tubes out. it aches my heart, to see you looking weaker and paler with each visit. and to see you get all swollen due to getting too much water in your body from the drips. if only you knew, that we're doing all this to save you. that the feeding tube is meant to help you. that we don't mean to put you through all this. and that fact that we did, was only because we wanted to help you get well.. i know you're never gonna get the chance to see this, how much more even read all this, but i hope you will stay strong and fight through. that way, you'll finally be able to go home. There's just so much unspoken words that i wanna tell you, but can't, cause you can't hear as well now, and i dunno how to tell you everything in Hakka. sighs. you're 95 now.. and as i always told you last time, i believe you'll go on to being a hundred. stay strong now, gong gong. i love you.  |