Grandpa Leaves

It was the night after Thanksgiving when I received the news. I had been checking my phone for new messages and emails every few minutes, because for whatever reason I just had the strongest feeling that I was going to hear about my grandpa soon. It's the second Thanksgiving I've spent with the Piehlers, family of two of my PiLam brothers who adopt me every November, and sure enough, in the middle of a movie about Christian Bale fighting dragons, I saw an email from Dad. The words were simple and to the point: Grandpa passed away at home this afternoon: 25^th November 2012, 13:14.

"My grandpa just died." I said in a somewhat monotonous voice. "I'll go give my dad a call." 

I excused myself and closed the door of the study behind me, while dialing my dad's cell. Our conversation was short and strangely was in English. Perhaps using grandpa's native tongue would feel too close to home, so we both avoided Chinese. "Call mom," he says, and for the first time I hear his voice crack. I'm extremely susceptible to being influenced into crying if I hear someone else cry, and it set me off. By the time I dial the number for mom, who was in CQ at the moment with my grandpa, the sobs were coming on full force. 

I sat on the pull-out bed, white-knuckling the phone, trying to make coherent phrases but failing. At that moment I feel more distanced from my family than I ever have, feeling like I couldn't do anything for the people I love, feeling alone and isolated. Grandma was crying as she tells me to take care of myself, to not worry. I texted Damian for that was always who I went to first, and his words were calming. 

For the most part I felt a sense of relief. I had been dreading this moment ever since Grandpa's diagnosis of lung cancer. Mom flew over to help take care of him with Grandma, and since then I haven't been able to regularly skype with my parents since my Dad stayed in Singapore to teach his classes. I remember one time where I just felt overwhelmed by everything I had to do at school and needed to hear a familiar voice, so I gave mom a call. She started crying the moment she heard my voice, which of course set me off as well. Both of us were bawling before either of us even said anything. As she regained composure, she said that grandpa was getting worse and he couldn't even speak anymore. Grandma holds the phone up to his ear and I was calling out to him, and faintly I heard him say my name in a raspy whisper.

I'm relieved that he isn't suffering anymore from the pain and humiliation cancer puts one through. I'm relieved that my mother can finally return home again after she has performed above and beyond her duties for the in-laws who have never treated her fairly. The uncles from my father's side, with their good-for-nothing attitudes, have always claimed that the only thing our family ever contributed to my grandparents' well-being was money, that they're the ones being filial and taking care of the elders. In my mother's entire stay with Grandpa, the rest of them showed up for a total of maybe three times. They've since then gotten off their high horse and shut up about who's put in the most effort. It's just sad to me how fake or shameless they are, lying through their teeth about issues that don't merit argument. 

I'm not religious and I don't believe in heaven or hell. I don't think Grandpa's now floating in the clouds sipping on his favourite baijiu. But I do believe in the power of transcendent relationships, and I know that as long as one of us is still alive, then the love that existed between us is still thriving. I believe in taking a well deserved rest after the toil that is life, and I hope that he has finally found peace.