Death Comes To All

My Grandpa's Dying

Not my maternal Grandpa, but my God-Grandpa, ie. my dad's God-Father. He lies in his bed at home right now, surrounded by his loved ones, oblivious to the real world around him. At times his hand suddenly goes into spasms and he starts weaving his hand through the air in that all so familiar movement of one stir frying something in the wok. Or he'd suddenly start rummaging for cigarettes in his pockets, which aren't there anymore. He'd reply gibberish, with a smile to any queries posed to him by visitors and family members alike, his eyes fixated at some point on the ceiling. The doctors estimate that he would not live past the week.

Memories of a giant

When i try to recall my earliest memories of my Grandpa, i see within my mind's eye that photograph of my birthday when i was just a toddler. Of a much younger him bending over, right next to me, surrounded by all my fabulous prezzies (How i wish i had that indoor swing back!). I don't remember the event taking place, but i remember seeing that photograph when i was still quite young, and its been there in my album ever since.

My Grandpa was a chef in his younger days. He and my Dad's father were sworn brothers and he took my Dad to be his God-Son eventually, when he was born. Oh he had alot of children of his own, but he had always treated my Dad as one of his own and all his children call my dad "Da Ge" or Big Bro.

I usually only got to see my Grandpa on Chinese New Year each year. Which is to say, not alot. Yet i never felt out of place nor unfamiliar with this kindly man with a boisterous nature and a thunder like voice. Strangely i've always felt quite close to this man i call "Gan-ye-ye" or "God-Grandpa". And oh! How i look forward to a sumptuous meal at his place! Especially his special hot pepper pig intestine soup. Haha... love it.

Every year he would inquire how i was doing in my studies, which i would usually just say "Ok" to. But as usual, my Dad's parents would have updated him that i was doing extrememly well. I remember him beaming at me when he found out i had gained entry to the pretigious Raffles Institution. His words were "Well done, Yifan! Study hard, next time you'll accomplish great things!" He was so proud of me... Well, of course i HAD to shock everyone by choosing to go Catholic JC instead of Raffles JC subsequently (all because of a girl! But thats another story...). I could see he was kinda disappointed and because he didn't know then that it was by my choice that i went CJC and not cos i couldn't go anywhere better, he comforted me by saying "Its all the same, wherever you go. Study hard and show them!" Although he meant it differently, as a form of consolation, his words echoed my own believes. "It makes no different which school one studies in, its whether one wants to study!"

And when i dropped out of NUS in years to come (probably a bad move, but who knows?), losing my scholarship and all, i suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt towards the old man. I had given myself a whole bunch of excuses for choosing to give up my scholarship and degree in my 3rd year. But non of them could protect me from the truth that lay in my heart. I had failed to live up to expectations of my loved ones. I had no choice but to face my parents and grandparents who live with me. I built up a wall of justifications around myself against their disappointment. But to my Grandpa who had encouraged me, commended me year after year... So i chose to hide, absenting myself from all family gatherings.

It was years before i got out of my depression and decided to make changes, no matter how minor. And i dragged myself down to my Grandpa's place for reunion dinner (how appropriate!) on Chinese New Year. They had aged. Yet both my Grandpa and Grandma's faces lit up when they saw me. I was surprised, grateul yet ashamed when Grandpa asked "The past is not important. If you work hard, you can still do it. What are your plans? Do you intend to study again?" He did not ask why i dropped out. He had not asked where i had been the past couple of years. Encouragement and guidance was all he gave. Nothing negative ever came from the dear old man. He made my return to the family easy. It was as if i had never left... Yet just a year later, he's about to leave me for good.

Reminder

As i looked at the thin and frail old man lying helplessly on his bed, his right foot amputated due to diabetes just recently, his legs thin to the bone, his once full head now sparsely covered, his mouth opening and closing uncontrollably, i remembered all the times our lives crossed and touched each other. And i regretted never getting to know him better, be closer with him. Standing there in his room, filled with the mumbo jumbo coming from the buddhist chant cassette playing in the background, i felt remorse for not finding chances to bring him to Christ. I am in his debt in all sense of the word. And as i look at him, i was struck by the striking resemblance he now bears to my own grandpa back at home, who's also nearing the end of his life cycle... And i felt fear clench at my stomach. That he would soon face the same fate.

Death comes to all men, young and old. The chinese consider it a blessing to have lived to an old age. Yet it is such a tragedy if in all those years none of his loved ones brought him before God to receive the gift of eternal life. How will i ever repay this debt i owe him? I probably will never be able to. But i resolve, never again to so easily pass up a chance to bring people around me to God, in memory of my Grandpa, a giant in his own right.