I'm still trying to move on, after the shock of hearing the news that my grandmother had died. When I heard about it, it took a few hours for the sadness to sink in. And when it did, I found myself in lessons staring at thin air, ignoring everything around me. It was hard enough to concentrate in lessons. It was even harder to hold back the tears in front of everyone.
It was ironic I found out about it after more than a week it happened. Through my cousin's blog. It sucks, having to find it out by yourself like that. I felt angry because no one told me about it directly.
But when I rang my parents, I kinda understood why they didn't wanna tell me. They were simply being pragmatic. I respect them for it. They didn't tell me right away so I didn't have to fly all the way back for the funeral. It would've cost a lot of money. And it would've severely disrupted my studies. My dad was calm. I knew he didn't want me to get too emotional about it. "Belajar saja... Jangan tah ingau. Doa kan saja nini mu atu.. Karang kau balik, tarus kita ke kubur, bertahlil." It's really strange - but I guess, entirely predictable - that what my dad said was so similar to what my uncle said to his daughter, who's also in the UK. It took me quite a lot of composure to construct the next sentence, because I could feel the tears trying to pour out. "Camana nini laki?"
That's one thing I'm really grateful about, is that my grandfather is doing well. He's relieved of intensive care, and is now home and healthy. He collapsed in the jungle around the same time my grandmother was in the hospital, he and was sent to intensive care. When my grandmother died, he was unconscious. So he didn't find out till later..
This is an excerpt of the blog from my cousin (21st April 2007), which broke my heart when I read it...
"It tears me up even more to hear that my grandfather doesn't know my grandmother has passed away. His heart is weak, and they don't want to make it worse. Apparently they had a few minutes to each other, as though they knew their time was up. So maybe he does know, though no one has told him. How can a heart not break hearing that?
... But today, even with a heavy heart, I felt thankful that her death made me realize I'm not a robot. That I can feel again. That I can shed tears and ache at a loss. That I am weak and have fears. That I am human and have regrets. Regrets that I didn't always treat my grandmother well. Regrets that I didn't spend as much time as I should've as her favourite grandchild. I wasn't bad to her, but I wasn't good either. And yet, she loved me."
One recurring image that's been going through my head since her death is the image of her with tears, in the airport, when I was about to leave for the UK. At the time, I was really touched, because I didn't spend as much time with her as her other grandchildren, but she still loved me as much. But I didn't think much of it at the time, because I thought I would see her again during the summer. She was such a strong character, with such a beautiful laugh, and a generous hand. I liked going to my grandparents' house, and I regretted the fact that I didn't go there as much as I should have.
She was the midwife and the masseusse of the village. She was quite the woman. Everyone in the village knew her. Every weekend there would always be someone visiting her for a massage.
Nini bini, you will be forever missed
Signing out
Over and out
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