I am not really good in conveying my emotions in any other way except for writing. And so, this is what I will do.
"The Grandfather" is an unique two-handed sword found in Diablo 1 which can be used with one hand. Its probably the most bad ass kicking slurpee curry sause weapon out there. In Diablo 2, its a very powerful 2 handed unique weapon which is one of the strongest weapons in the entire game.
In Diablo 3, the legacy of the Grandfather wasn't diminished. Its still a BAKSCSW out there. Much as I would like a Grandfather in game, I would very much prefer to have my Grandfather in real life. You see, this is because, at the moment of writing this, 25th June 2013 Tuesday, he had just passed away and I am sobbing profusely as I try to recall all of the memories that I have of him.
Most people don't really have vivid memories of their nursery and kindergarden life and I am no exception. However, there are some memories that are so powerful that no matter how long, you will not forget them. I remember that there was one time, me and a friend challenged each other to eat red chilli padi. As a kid, all I wanted to do was to be in the center of attraction. I ate the chilli padi and I immediately breathed fire. The fiery breath stung my eyes and I began to tear uncontrollably. I could still remember the other kids laughing at me while I was crying. After the ordeal was over, I swore that I wouldn't go anywhere this devilish like thing for a long time. On the bright side, I discovered two things. One, chilli padi is freaking hot. Two, chilli padi clears blocked nose pretty darn well, not that I would recommend it though.
During my pre school days, my dad would fetch me to my grandpa's house early in the morning to rest and then I would need to prepare for school. I remember that my dad would always buy "Char Hao Kuay" for me to eat. This "Char Hao Kuay" isn't your normal kind of "CHK". It is made with white raddish being deep fried and was served in rectangular strips. A packet of $1 would have about 10 to 15 strips. I have always enjoyed this cheap delicacy and that was probably my favorite food back then and it probably still is now, except that its extremely hard to find. My grandfather knew that I loved this food and he would always buy back some for me whenever he went to the market. This marked the beginning of my fatty career, but I didn't mind. Why should I? I am just 4 or 5 then.
My grandfather would occasionally buy some toys for me, which made me
very happy since my parents at that time didn't really buy toys. I
remember a ninja turtle set which was filled with turtles that I have
never seen before, some weird looking ultraman plastic toy and an
electronic gun which made laser like noises. There are still other toys
as well, but I remember these 3 the best. Out of these 3, the electronic
gun was the most memorable one. When my grandfather passed me the
electronic gun, it was working fine and dandy. Once I squeezed the
trigger, the 'pew pew' sound that came out delighted me to no end. I
kept on pressing the trigger so as to hear the laser like sound and
suddenly, the whole gun just dismantled itself. I took the parts and
looked at my grandfather and said "gong gong...(This is a term for
grandfather in Cantonese I think)" My voice was forlorn and it probably
sounded pitiful. My grandfather picked up the pieces of the gun, and
with some godly miracle he arranged it back again and handed it over to
me. I took the gun, squeezed the trigger a few times and as if to
counter the godly miracle my grandfather had, the gun broke again... I
wasn't really sure if I cried then but since I was a cry baby during
that time, I would say that I did. And lo and behold! I got a new toy in
the form of ninja turtles which didn't exactly looked like them, but
who cares, ninja turtles are still kickass awesomely cool.
On the first day of my preschool, my grandfather was the one who brought me there. We took a bus, 196 or 197 I think and alighted somewhere in the CBD area, not that I know what it is that time. We would walk for a distance and before we reached the YMCA school, there would be an office building along the way. Outside the building, there would be some tall grass growing on some sort of elevated mini nursery. I remember my grandfather would put his umbrella on top of the grass and suddenly, as though there was magic, the grass would just sway with gusto. I tried the same thing with my waterbottle and always failed miserably. Now that I think about it, its probably because my grandfather could hear the sound of the wind and he timed it perfectly the timing matches with his "magic".
When we reached YMCA, as my grandfather handed me other to the teacher, I would cry non stop and refused to leave my grandfather. As the gate closed and separated me and my grandfather, I would just stand there bawling and he would come back and comfort me. I don't really remember exactly what happened, but I think he said that he will come back later and fetch me back home. The memories after that are pretty vague, but I remember making friends and being pretty happy when the day is over. I was really a crybaby back then and I still am now, despite my exterior appearance.
Every time without fail when my grandfather fetched me back home, he
will always bring some tibits for me to eat. Sometimes its the "wang
wang" rice crackers, sometimes it was seaweed crackers, and sometimes it
was an unidentifiable treat, but no matter what it was, I always
finished them all. When I returned back home, my grandmother would
prepare ribena inside a bottle with a suckling cap. I would lay down on
the sofa, suck the ribena and watch Barney the dinosaur. I was really
contented and happy back then. It was in this period of time where I
also got my blue wallet.
Time passed, and in a blink of an eye, I was in primary school. Due to the distance from my house to the school, I no longer need to go to my grandfather's house everyday. It was far more convenient to walk to school from my home then to travel to my grandfather's house and go to school from there. This is the time where I stayed at my paternal grandmother house and became pretty close to my cousin. I only visited my grandfather during the holidays, albeit unwillingly because it wasn't convenient and fun for me. I wasn't the same kid as I was back then, although I am still pretty young. I only wanted to stay at home and play computer games and his house didn't really have them. The only entertainment there was my other cousin, as he would sometimes come over and we both would have some crazy fun. My grandfather knew that I loved "Char Hao Kway" and Nasi Lemak, so whenever I came over, which will usually be early in the morning, he would go and buy them while I was fast asleep. There was never once in which I have not eaten them when I came over. Never once.
I remember one incident where I brought my PS1 over to play and apparently my smart ass brother was jealous that he secretly took away the power cable. Me and my cousin tried to find a suitable cable around the entire house, but to no avail. Seeing our predicament, our grandfather didn't say a word and came back with a cable which fitted exactly. Me and my cousin were really happy and we started to play Diablo 1. About 2 hours later, the whole game suddenly shut down and there was smoke coming out from the PS1. We were shocked and really scared, so the first thing we did was to switch off the power and then we just started at the smoking PS1 silently. Our grandfather saw the smoke and came over. When the smoke died down, my cousin turned the power on again and tried to play it, but it wouldn't turn on. We then found out that the voltage supplied by our grandfather is different from the voltage of the PS1. Well, I wasn't angry with my grandfather or anything, but I was seriously pissed of with my brother. As the smoke subsided, my grandfather tried his best to fix the PS1, but in the end, it was futile. At that point of time, I was disappointed, but now when I think about it, that was probably his way of showing his love. Me and my cousin didn't really need to say anything except for "We cannot find the cable" in chinese and my grandfather just automatically bought the cable for us. Even though the voltage wasn't correct, its truly the thought that counts. He couldn't bear to see both of us looking so sad. Even when I was in my secondary school to the days when he was still healthy, he would automatically buy my favorite food like claypot rice, chilli crab, durian when he knew that I was coming over.
As I grew older, so did the number of times I went to visit him. I would much rather stay at home and do my own stuff. I had my own fair share of troubles and issues and I didn't have time to go down and visit. When I say that I didn't have time, its not true until I was in DigiPen. All the other times when I could have went down, I didn't. This is because I was playing games at home and there was nothing for me to do there. There was no purpose for me to go there. Eating my favorite food no longer because an incentive to go down. I would very, very occasionally go down because I am forced to by my mother. Other then that, going down was just a burden for me.
Nothing much of interest happened during my polytechnic days, but during my NS, after I was posted to IMOS, I received a mail from my mother that my grandmother has passed away. That was the second time I cried in bunk. The first being operation teardrop, which is another story. Even though i wasn't really close to my grandmother, I was still hit pretty hard. Fortunately, she became a christian before she passed away and so I firmly believe that she is with god now. During the funeral, I could tell that my grandfather was really devastated, more so then anyone else in the family. If memory serves me right, both of them met at an arranged marriage, but love still managed to blossom. This was the first time that I've seen my stout grandfather cry as her body was cremated at Mandai. Since young, I have always believed that God has a plan. I attribute this experience as the main reason why my grandfather accepted Christ.
A few months after that was the Navy open house. I was still an OJT(On job training, basically the lowest of the lowest life form on board a ship) and as such, I had to do a lot of the duck tours around my ship. However, there was one particular tour in which I was looking forward to. My grandfather and mother was coming to my ship. My ship crew gave me permission to go out and bring them to the ship. As they crossed the gangway, I assisted my grandfather across and introduced my ship. I proudly took him and my mother for a tour of the ship and tried to exaggerate the role that I play, just for the laugh of it. I told him that I was in charge of firing all the guns and I totally blew out of proportion on how powerful my gun is and what my skills really were. In actual fact, I was pretty darn lousy at my job at this point of time but who would actually say that? I was really glad that he enjoyed the tour, even though I knew that he didn't understand what I was really saying. Despite this, he still put on a smile throughout the whole tour which made me really warm and fuzzy inside. As he left the ship and began to head home with my mother. I shed a tear or two and with a firm resolve, I secretly promised myself that I will protect him.
The time which I ORDed from NS was a turbulent one. Many things happened and I was really discouraged with myself and with my life. However, as things changed for the better for me in the later part of 2012, things took a turn for the worse for my grandfather. He had cancer. F***ing cancer. Sorry, but I just had to get that out. Luckily, the cancer was detected not too late and there is a chance of curing it.
It was the first semester of DigiPen when it happened. I cannot remember whether it was Saturday or Sunday, but before I headed to school, I headed down to the hospital to pay a visit to him. Truth be told, It was an awkward visit. I haven't really seen my grandfather much since the tour onto my ship and I didn't really know what to say to him. Fortunately, my aunt was there with her ipad so I managed to get some conversation going on the topic of the holiday trips that he went with my aunts. After that, he asked me when I was going to graduate. I told him in around 2 1/2 years and after graduation, I would bring him around to some other country after working for a few months and saving some cash. Of course I didn't mean what I say, it was just on a spur of the moment thing, and deep down inside, I was pretty sure that he would have forgotten about it. At that point of time, I didn't really feel anything on these empty promises. However, as I am writing this in retrospect, I truly hate myself now. The topic gradually changed to food and he said that he will buy my favorite food if I went down next time. I replied him:" Gong gong, next time I will be the one buying for you when I come down.". After ten to twenty minutes more of talking, I bid my farewells and headed to school to complete my project.
Semester two of DigiPen went by without anything of note; My grandfather went for some treatment and had to take pills to keep his body in check, but nothing serious happened. However, semester three is a whole new different thing. My mom told me that my grandfather did not really have an appetite anymore and asked me to go down and visit him. According to her, his appetite became very random. On certain occasions he would want to eat something, only to refuse it and put on a fit when my aunt went to get it for him.On the way to his house, me and my mom stopped near Ikea and we bought claypot rice for him. That's one part of my deal fulfilled. The first time I saw him in over 3 months, I was in a state of shock. My grandfather, who was once pretty darn stout and healthy has now been reduced to slightly bigger then a bag of bones. His cheeks which were once round, but not too plump were now saggy and hollow. His stout body was in the verge of shriveling and his legs could barely stride half as much as what he used to do years ago. How did my grandfather, who was once someone so strong could become like this? I was incredulous. I clenched my fist tightly and whispered to myself:"f*** cancer". This was also the first time when I went down, he didn't immediately offer to go and by my favorite food. Obviously I could understand why and even if he wanted to go, I would have stopped him without hesitation. During dinner, he ate half a bowl of the claypot rice. That wasn't really a lot, but according to my mom, that was plenty as compared to the past few months.
After that, I went down one of two more times before the fateful day, which is the 16th of June 2013, a Sunday. I didn't go to church and stayed at home and watched "Sword Art Online" instead. In the afternoon, I headed down to my grandfather's house with the intention of celebrating father's day. The first thing I saw was my grandfather in a wheelchair. As I saw that scene, my mood changed. I felt extremely helpless and angry at myself. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't say anything. There was nothing I could do except to watch... and be quiet. I ate my lunch beside my grandfather in the living room when suddenly, he started to talk to my aunt. He seemed to have used a great deal of effort with just saying a few words, which was basically to get something for him. It was a red packet and he handed it over to me. I stood up and grabbed it with both of my hands and thanked him. The red packet was for my birthday, which is at 18th June. Albert Einstein once said:" I fear the day technology will surpass our human interaction. This world will have a generation of idiots.". He may not be too far off, but that's for debate at another time. My point here is, we all rely on facebook and automated synchronization services to remember a person's number, birthday and other data. While this is no sin nor is it a huge catastrophe, it makes human interaction further. My grandfather, despite being so sickly, could remember my birthday. When I think about it, I didn't even remember his birthday and what his name was until now, for the name part that is. I only remember his birthday should be somewhere in November. I am truly detestable.
As I grew older, my personality changed. I began to be apathetic. I
believed that I couldn't feel love, sadness and other kinds of emotions.
I hid myself behind a huge wall and I was comfortable there. I didn't
want to expose my true self and I kept all emotions behind this huge
impenetrable wall. A few days later, the wall would collapse and everything will start to pour out, like a dam that was broken by a raging current.
24th June, Monday morning. My mother told me that my grandfather has been admitted to hospital again but this time, his condition is critical. He suddenly couldn't breathe properly. Throughout the whole of last week, the PSI index hit an average of 300, with the highest being 401 and since my grandfather's house is at the second floor without any air conditioning, it would appear that the haze has gotten the better of him. I decided to head down at around 1pm but at 9.30am, my mum gave me a call and told me that my grandfather's condition is very critical. I finished reading the last few pages of the chapter and then went to get myself ready to head to the hospital. I took a taxi and reached to SGH in record time. Apparently, I was the first family member to visit my grandfather for the day.
When I saw him, I was utterly taken aback. There was electrodes on his arms and he had an oxygen mask on him. His once stout body has become so slender that it seemed easy to break. Only his fingers were puffed up, but I suspect that it has to do with his illness. He looked like he was in a terminal stage of cancer. I wanted to touch his hand and call out to him, but for some reason, I was really afraid to. I took a chair and sat down beside his bed, breathing heavily. In less than 3 minutes on seeing my grandfather, I could feel tears coming down my cheeks and I started to cry uncontrollably, but I did it silently. The only thing I could do is to cry.
After finishing the first bout of tears, I drew out the courage to touch his hand and then the second round of tears came. This time, I had to go to the toilet, hide myself in one of the cubicles and started sobbing there. When I came back, I sat on the chair and tried to control the third wave of tears. At this time, my aunt came in and talked to me. She said that yesterday, they pumped a significant amount of phlegm out, I cannot remember was it 1 liter or 500 grams. Either way, its still an astronomical amount of phlegm. My aunt tried to wake my grandfather up by calling his name and stroking his legs and arms, but to no avail. She said that he has not been responsive since a short while before his admission to the hospital. Suddenly I saw his head spasm, but he wasn't awake. It was probably some bodily reflex. My uncle then came in and tried to wake my grandfather up. The result was the same as my aunt. However, at this point of time, I was at my limit. I excused myself and went back into the same cubicle and cried again. I wanted to shout badly, shout until my lungs burst and until I couldn't talk anymore, but as this was a hospital and not some military parade or beach front, I couldn't do that. I just opened my mouth wide and breathed out air violently.
The next 2 people that came was a pastor and my mother. The pastor went beside my grandfather and prayed for him. As the pastor said in chinese of something around the lines of "God loves you". A huge wave of emotions enveloped me again. I had to seek the refuge of the same cubicle to do what I've done so many times in the past 30 minutes. When I returned, the pastor was talking to my uncle on what Christians believe in life after death, that my grandfather was going back to his real home and told my uncle to prepare himself. He also further added that God will not let him children suffer because he loves them. I stayed for a while more and then I left, but before that, I had finally managed to pluck the courage to say. "Gong gong, I'll go first. Wo xian zhou le.". With these words of goodbye, I went out of the room and went straight into the cubicle for a fourth or fifth time. The crying this time round was on another level. I kept on thinking about God's love as I bawled and I realized that maybe, just maybe I wasn't apathetic after all. I needed love, not parental love but love from another person. I realized that we humans are not meant to be alone. This was the best belated birthday present that I've ever received. On the way to Outram MRT, I kept on pondering a single question. "If death is so painful, why do people kill?"
I reached home at about 8.30 to 9pm and after washing myself up, I started reading on the translated Sword Art Online novel. A call came at about 10.11pm and I had a sense of deja vu. Sure enough, within moments, my mom told me and my brother to get ready to leave. My grandfather was in a seriously critical condition and the doctor told my aunt to contact all family members. Ever since leaving the ward in the afternoon, I have already had a sense of what will be coming and I was sort of mentally prepared for it.
When my brother, my mom and I reached the hospital, I could see several other family members who had already came. My aunt met us and she told us silently:" Gong gong has passed away." I took these words without much of a surprise as this was what I had expected. The three of us went to his ward and at the peripheral of his bed were curtains that covered the entire bed. We went inside and what I saw was my grandfather lying down on the bed with his eyes closed and his body looking like he passed on in peace. I muttered the Lord's prayer silently and I had a desire to grab his hands with my fingers and just say something. With my mother and brother by my side and with my huge ego, obviously I didn't do it yet. I waited until all of them were out and I was alone with my grandfather then I cupped his cold hands with both of mine and I whispered something alone the lines of :"Lord, please grant my grandfather peace.". I walked out of the room and went to blew my nose. Moments later, more members of the family arrived and had their time with our grandfather. After everyone had their alone time, it was time to leave the hospital. As I left the hospital, I began to think of all the times that I've had with my grandfather and decided to write it all down.
I wanted to write this so as not to forget how much my grandfather and God loves me and I also wanted to show myself that if I ever think that I have became apathetic, all I need to do is to look at this and be reminded of how many liters of tears I have shed in a day. If anyone that I know reads this, I am sure that you'll be surprised how come "tough guy" Isaac is behaving like a totally different person here. That is because, that is the real me. My external self may look older then 24, but inside is still a 12 year old crybaby who just wants to be loved.
I would like to end this by saying, God is love. I got this from a facebook app called message from God.
"Yes, God loves you. Very much. Unconditionally. Like a mother loves her
child, unconditionally. Even as she slaps her baby's hand to protect
from being burnt by a fire, her love infuses her whole being. So with
God. God's love for you infuses the whole Universe."
And with that, Amen.
