In loving memory of my late grandpa. It has been ten whole years that he left us. I still remember one day before his departure ten years ago, my mum came to school to fetch me back to grandpa’s place for my grandpa is at his critical state.
Having admitted to Normah Medical Specialist for a few days, the hospital discharged my grandpa on the ground that he was only waiting for his time to pass. My uncles brought my grandpa to his very own place, a two-storey wooden house he built with his own hands, a home filled with family bond.
I knew my grandma was very sad. She stood by him all night. Imagine a 70 year old woman holding the hands of a 80 year old man. The look on her face - sad and uncertain. A couple who had spent almost half a century of their lives now had to say goodbye.
At the moment my grandpa breathed his last breath, I could see him struggling for a while before passing in a peaceful manner. That’s the way people die, I think. The room was filled with sadness and tears. I can not helped but shed tears, tears dripping down my cheeks. That was the last time I cried badly, real bad.
Nostalgic moments retold. My grandparents, they were the one who brought us up when we were kids. From my pre-school till Form 2. When I was studying in the morning session, the good ol bus driver would fetch my sisters and I to my grandparent’s house. We had lunch there while waiting for mum to fetch us back home after she finished teaching.
When I was in my secondary school years, my dad would dragged us to our grandparent’s house on his way to work. Every morning, life was so routine. We washed up, had lunch at my grandparent’s place before walking to school. Sometimes, I played at their garden where they planted all types of vegetables - lady’s fingers, brinjals, cucumbers, bok chois, kailans, chilies and etcetra.
What I loved most is the scent of the roses my grandma planted. I used to go and smell the red roses when I was bored studying. Sometimes I pricked my fingers while studying the petals. Sometimes I ran like hell because bees were busy sucking its nectar. Those were the days in the garden.
Once a month, when grandpa noticed that my hair is long, he would take his bike out and give me a ride to the nearest barber. Those were the days when barbers had good business before the advent of salon. An oldman riding the cycle and a young grandson sitting at the back grabbing his grandpa’s waist. What a sight.
But then, those were the days. That was ten to twenty years back. I can’t turn back the clock. Even if I have the super power to do just that, I won’t. While I was in Kuching for my cousin’s wedding, I decided to pay my grandpa a visit. It was a day after All Soul’s Day.
His resting place was located behind 7th Mile’s Sacred Heart Church. That’s why I love being Catholic. You come to earth, baptised with water, confirmed with the Holy Spirit, and die simple. No crappy rituals but just a Requiem Mass for the deceased.
By the sweat of your face will you earn your food, until you return to the ground, as you were taken from it. For dust you are and to dust you shall return.
~Genesis 3:19
On November 14, 1998, Andrew Chong Nam Shui left behind his wife, five sons and two daughters and more than a dozen of grandchildren.
PS: You might wonder what Liew has to do with Chong. That’s a long history which until now I am not able to comprehend fully.
2 comments ↓
God bless his soul! With a grandson like you, I’m sure he’s smiling down on you in Heaven!
suituapui, sometimes I still think of him. Everybody get a chance to live and to die. That’s life…
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