A Life Worth Living

my grandmother passed away last week.

In all honesty, I am still unable to come to grips with it. It's like she's simply gone away for a holiday, and that when I return from Australia the next time, she'll be there, in her house, waiting to stuff me full with all the wonderful food that she cooks.

At least I managed to catch a last glimpse of her before she passed away. It is quite amazing how one is able to buy an airticket and fly from Sydney to Singapore all within 7 hours. And yet, it's still not ideal. Not that there could be any ideal last goodbyes, but by the time I arrived in the hospital, she had been heavily sedated and although she did show some signs of acknowledgement, I'm still not entirely sure if she knew I was there.

I just wish I could have one last conversation with her.

I just wish I had stayed for the Chinese New Year, instead of rushing off to work.

I just wish...I am reaching the point of irrationality.

It is never easy to handle death, I mean, I had to handle my own father's passing away seven years ago and I'm still coming to terms with it. But this is also different because it all happened so suddenly. But I am fortunate enough to have spent some time by my grandmother's bedside for 2 days before she passed away. What about others who have lost someone within a matter of 2 minutes?

I miss her. I miss her terribly.

This is the woman who raised me.

This is the woman who spoils me rotten, ensuring I get all my favourite meals whenever I return from overseas.

This is the woman whom I spend most Sundays with, whenever I'm in the country.

This is the woman who will call the family up, just to chat, or because she saw something interesting on TV.

This is the woman who tries to shrug me off whenever I hug her, but always does it with a pleased smile and twinkle in her eye.

This is the woman who constantly bugs me to provide her with a grandson-in-law, preferably Caucasion because "they treat their wives better".

This is the woman who has gone to sleep and left a hole in my heart.

Like with my father, I don't think I'll ever stop missing her. I don't think I'll ever stop wondering how things would be different if she was around. I don't think I'll ever stop thinking how nice it would be for her to witness something significant that has happened in my life.

And yet, I am going to believe that God is in charge. I will believe that God has everything under control. I believe that everything has gone according to God's will.

I cannot answer why she had to go now, to go so soon, to go the way she did. But I have full faith that God has a plan. And I have found a few rays of sunshine.

I have always wondered why I had to spend the whole of last year in Singapore, working in a place that nearly killed my soul. But if I wasn't forced to be in Singapore, it would mean I'd have been away from home for 5 years and I would never have been able to spend the amount of time I did with my grandmother.

Maybe it's self-centred, but I believe God brought me back to Singapore for a reason. And yes, I found many different reasons why I had to be in Singapore in 2004, but I know the true reason is so that I could spend quality time with my grandmother.

Also, had it not been for her funeral, and the pyschotic relatives who refuse to leave us to grieve but instead choose to create trouble and add trauma by determining what we should do during the funeral because otherwise "her soul will find no rest", I would not have sat down to talk to my grandfather, just so that I could shield him from the poisonous talks the pyschotic relatives were giving him.

I honestly never knew my grandfather before this. We were never close. Our conversations consisted of hellos and goodbyes, and always required translations. I was convinced I didn't speak his language and would never understand it.

But for the three days of my grandmother's wake, he has provided me with so many interesting stories about his life, I still wonder why hadn't I tried before. We were still speaking different languages, but somehow, we could get enough of each other's language to understand each other. It was brilliant.

So yes, I still mourning the loss of my grandmother. I still miss her terribly and whenever the full knowledge of her death hits me, I am still unable to control the tears that spring up in my eyes. And I certainly wish things could be different.

But I'm glad that I have treated her right when she was alive. That her death has left me without the guilt that I should not have treated her the way I did.

And I am still clinging on to the faith that God has everything under control and that even though there is pain, there is also peace.