Death. One thing people will not enjoy talking about.
On Sunday, 19 August 2007, my maternal grandfather passed away. I received the news in shock, of course. I did not bring my handphone to work since handphones are not allowed to be brought to plant site, so I only received the news via SMS after I read it after work hours.
I rushed home, but could not arrive on time for the funeral. He was buried that evening, I reached home at night.
Well, I went through a lot of odd feelings at that time.
I didn't felt very sad. For a simple reason being I was never really attached to him. I'm not like some kids who were sent to their grandparents when they were still young. But I want to feel sad. It is about death, of a close relative. While I'm driving and thinking more of reaching home early so that I can catch Liverpool versus Chelsea, it creates a horrible guilt in me. I want to feel sad, I just did not.
Bizarrely later I found out that none of my family members really felt sad. Even my mom, my granny, my aunties, my uncle.
It was the way of his death that led to a less painful ending for those still alive. He has suffered from dementia, severe loss of memory early this year. His brain has deteriorated for the past few years, but was never noticed. When sent to hospital, doctor says it was simply too late. The conditions are uncurable, but can be prevented to get worse. Theoretically.
He did get worse. He had a hard time remembering most figures in his life except his children, his wife (my granny) and his son-in-law (my father). He tell tales of his younger days, teaching schoolchildren. He was a teacher back then.
Physically, he was bound to the bed. In the early weeks after his release from the ward, he was told to have a one-hour walk per day. Soon after he can't even get out from his bed, to an extent that his back was so severely lacking ventilation that the skin peeled off to show meat, the muscle decayed to show bone, and the bone worn out to show sumsum.
He had suffered enough, and for his family, they are already losing him. He can barely recognize them. So when the time comes, it is sort of like a sigh of relief for everyone that his suffer has ended.
I had a turbulent weekend, plenty to write, but for this week, I think I'll settle to write something we all are ought to ponder about.
To my grandfather, let us pray for his peace in his afterlife in the grave and the Hereafter. Al-Faatihah.
On Sunday, 19 August 2007, my maternal grandfather passed away. I received the news in shock, of course. I did not bring my handphone to work since handphones are not allowed to be brought to plant site, so I only received the news via SMS after I read it after work hours.
I rushed home, but could not arrive on time for the funeral. He was buried that evening, I reached home at night.
Well, I went through a lot of odd feelings at that time.
I didn't felt very sad. For a simple reason being I was never really attached to him. I'm not like some kids who were sent to their grandparents when they were still young. But I want to feel sad. It is about death, of a close relative. While I'm driving and thinking more of reaching home early so that I can catch Liverpool versus Chelsea, it creates a horrible guilt in me. I want to feel sad, I just did not.
Bizarrely later I found out that none of my family members really felt sad. Even my mom, my granny, my aunties, my uncle.
It was the way of his death that led to a less painful ending for those still alive. He has suffered from dementia, severe loss of memory early this year. His brain has deteriorated for the past few years, but was never noticed. When sent to hospital, doctor says it was simply too late. The conditions are uncurable, but can be prevented to get worse. Theoretically.
He did get worse. He had a hard time remembering most figures in his life except his children, his wife (my granny) and his son-in-law (my father). He tell tales of his younger days, teaching schoolchildren. He was a teacher back then.
Physically, he was bound to the bed. In the early weeks after his release from the ward, he was told to have a one-hour walk per day. Soon after he can't even get out from his bed, to an extent that his back was so severely lacking ventilation that the skin peeled off to show meat, the muscle decayed to show bone, and the bone worn out to show sumsum.
He had suffered enough, and for his family, they are already losing him. He can barely recognize them. So when the time comes, it is sort of like a sigh of relief for everyone that his suffer has ended.
I had a turbulent weekend, plenty to write, but for this week, I think I'll settle to write something we all are ought to ponder about.
To my grandfather, let us pray for his peace in his afterlife in the grave and the Hereafter. Al-Faatihah.
condolences for ur family bro...i also had a bad day on da same day...n btw,diz week is like a death week as two of my fren[termasuk ko la mi] lost their grandparents...sedih gak tp nmpk cam relek jer memasing...
ReplyDeletep/s:lwn sunderland diz week...pecer fantasy lu????