Time with relatives

04052012.1127

Woke up very early today, and went to visit my grandma (mum's side of the family). It's again my ritual, to pay visits to as many people one either side of the family as possible. I chatted with her a while before I headed over to my aunt's (dad's older sister). Before leaving, I prayed before my grandpa's (mum's dad) altar, and asked him to protest my mother...

We chatted some more, together with my cousin, about my late uncle. Death leads people to reminisce and long for the past, long for the things were. Death also reminds people of those who have gone before, even those long gone, for as we spoke about my uncle's final days, we also spoke about dad and his finals days and moments. I listened and listened. At times it got too much and was difficult to bear. But for my aunt, and my cousin, whose experience of death is much fresher and rawer, speaking about those who have gone triggered inevitable tears.

My aunt recalled the day of the funeral, and how it poured with heavy, heavy rain. A relative came, crying, and held my aunt's hands. "The heavens are weeping. Why is it that the good people go so quickly...?" My aunt said she too started crying. As she recounted the story, her eyes became moist and red again.

It was hard but at the same time also very touching to sit with my relatives and share memories of loved ones, and share our experiences of caretaking and coping with cancer. I felt such sympathy for their loss, and kept telling my aunt that she has done the best she can. "It must have been very hard and hard work for you..." It may all sound so condescending, but it's not meant that way. For I know very well how hard and how much of a hard work it is to live life with your moods pinned to the random swings your loved one's health between good and bad, and worse and hopelessness. The waiting, and the unknown is the most strenuous and arduous of all. And there is the uncertainty of how it will all end coupled with the constant fear of one moment when you suddenly let your guard down or temporarily take a break you might miss the final moment you've been waiting for, you've been dreading... Yes, we are not merely relatives who have lost someone dear. We are also fellow caretakers with a lot to share and talk about on this long and emotionally difficult road..

"Auntie, please take good care of yourself. It's been a hard time for you..." I said and patted my aunt on her shoulder. She's a small lady, with greying hair, and as she aged and grew wrinklier, I saw the reflection of my dear grandma, and saw reflections of my childhood summers in the countryside. How I have grown how people have aged and changed, and passed away... It's all part of growing up, of dealing with life, and death.

I headed to the high speed rail station and caught a train within a minute of it departing. I sat down, and as the train picked up speed the scenery outside began to blur.

Perhaps this is the way life looks at the end... A blurred vision fast forward, with glimpses of deep impressions that remain clearly etched on the mind.

As the world blurred outside, I drifted inwards, drifted and drifted off to sleep and to a world beyond thoughts, beyond words...