dear jess,
my motto in life is that the people who laugh the loudest, and the most, hurt the deepest inside. my cousins and me have a 3 second laugh. Its because, we laugh every 3 seconds. its freaky, but ive found this to be true not just of us, but of other people too.
one night, in the cold of my room, all by myself, i started to cry. Ive never cried that way before, ever. It was the first time i mourned and ached so deep for her that i couldnt comprehend. I cried and gasped, and felt suddenly the realisation of whats happened.
that was many months after the mourning stop. Today marks the death of my mama. my one and only insanely crazy and beautiful and perverted and cute and the best devil curry cook grandma. Im torn in between wanting to explain to you the fullness of who she was, and the pain of her death.
I know most people shun away from introducing their granparents to their friends, but mine, mine was the one that was hilariously younger and more energetic than me. Mine, mine was the one that watched movies with me!! Her last movie was national security, and mine, mine was the one that would climb up genting stairs to get to the casino.
We all thought she would outlive us.. People have this image that old people will die soon, but not mine. She was healthier and stronger than us. In fact, she passed of nothing due to her age or her health. The hemorrage apparently happens to even those who are 19.
My grandmother cracked jokes, walked in shopping malls packed during a sale, travelled to visit her kids every other months, even climbed over the neighbours fence with a sarong on in her slightly younger days. She was by far not a burden, which so many old people fear to become.
Thats the way she passed too. I hate retelling the story of how i had to see her go. Of how she was in so much pain that i had to look at her whilst we raced thru evening traffic to get her to a hospital.
You know, it was the scariest day of my life. I had my theses presentation, and it was the worse day ever, the irony of my thoughts. i came home and later in the afternoon when she was in pain, i rubbed her back, and some sense's awoke in me. As i rubbed her i thought, this is how she feels like.
When it was over, no one knew. My ability to hide my pain and tears have always been a strong point. I was always the 'strong one.' I have this weird intuiton that i can sometimes tell that someone is going to die. Its not a bizzare gift, its a dark, sick side of me. The truth is what hurts the most is the feeling that i miss her so so so much.
Have you ever imagined your world with that one special person less? Except you cant do anything about it. I was pondering this tragedy. Mama was the first person to pass away in the family. There hadnt been a death for years.
24 days later my aunty passes away. Leaving my four cousins and my uncle behind. This is 3 days after elaine's birthday, 3 days! And a few days into Jerome's birthday!
The tragedy lies in the suddeness of death, when no one was sick. The tragedy lies in losing your mum when you're 19, who also wasnt sick. The tragedy lies in losing your mother and wife in less that 30 days apart, being there and watching it happen.
My brain feels like a bee now. Buzzing inconclusively. Trying to understand the incomprehensible, my cousins, my mother, my uncle. It is beyond me, it is nothing i can fix.
I know this relates nothing to you in any way at all. And that's okay. Thanks for reading. For once, i have no idea at all how to end this mail. You know, God is good, all the time. Since that one year ago, my family religiously do Sunday dinners, sleepovers, frequent visits, trips, outings. Bitter sweet. Bitter, 3 seconds laugh, break, laugh, break, laugh. Its almost like we were high on weed. Except maybe its just grief, they, we, try to hide.
Perhaps.
on a 3 second break,
jess
my motto in life is that the people who laugh the loudest, and the most, hurt the deepest inside. my cousins and me have a 3 second laugh. Its because, we laugh every 3 seconds. its freaky, but ive found this to be true not just of us, but of other people too.
one night, in the cold of my room, all by myself, i started to cry. Ive never cried that way before, ever. It was the first time i mourned and ached so deep for her that i couldnt comprehend. I cried and gasped, and felt suddenly the realisation of whats happened.
that was many months after the mourning stop. Today marks the death of my mama. my one and only insanely crazy and beautiful and perverted and cute and the best devil curry cook grandma. Im torn in between wanting to explain to you the fullness of who she was, and the pain of her death.
I know most people shun away from introducing their granparents to their friends, but mine, mine was the one that was hilariously younger and more energetic than me. Mine, mine was the one that watched movies with me!! Her last movie was national security, and mine, mine was the one that would climb up genting stairs to get to the casino.
We all thought she would outlive us.. People have this image that old people will die soon, but not mine. She was healthier and stronger than us. In fact, she passed of nothing due to her age or her health. The hemorrage apparently happens to even those who are 19.
My grandmother cracked jokes, walked in shopping malls packed during a sale, travelled to visit her kids every other months, even climbed over the neighbours fence with a sarong on in her slightly younger days. She was by far not a burden, which so many old people fear to become.
Thats the way she passed too. I hate retelling the story of how i had to see her go. Of how she was in so much pain that i had to look at her whilst we raced thru evening traffic to get her to a hospital.
You know, it was the scariest day of my life. I had my theses presentation, and it was the worse day ever, the irony of my thoughts. i came home and later in the afternoon when she was in pain, i rubbed her back, and some sense's awoke in me. As i rubbed her i thought, this is how she feels like.
When it was over, no one knew. My ability to hide my pain and tears have always been a strong point. I was always the 'strong one.' I have this weird intuiton that i can sometimes tell that someone is going to die. Its not a bizzare gift, its a dark, sick side of me. The truth is what hurts the most is the feeling that i miss her so so so much.
Have you ever imagined your world with that one special person less? Except you cant do anything about it. I was pondering this tragedy. Mama was the first person to pass away in the family. There hadnt been a death for years.
24 days later my aunty passes away. Leaving my four cousins and my uncle behind. This is 3 days after elaine's birthday, 3 days! And a few days into Jerome's birthday!
The tragedy lies in the suddeness of death, when no one was sick. The tragedy lies in losing your mum when you're 19, who also wasnt sick. The tragedy lies in losing your mother and wife in less that 30 days apart, being there and watching it happen.
My brain feels like a bee now. Buzzing inconclusively. Trying to understand the incomprehensible, my cousins, my mother, my uncle. It is beyond me, it is nothing i can fix.
I know this relates nothing to you in any way at all. And that's okay. Thanks for reading. For once, i have no idea at all how to end this mail. You know, God is good, all the time. Since that one year ago, my family religiously do Sunday dinners, sleepovers, frequent visits, trips, outings. Bitter sweet. Bitter, 3 seconds laugh, break, laugh, break, laugh. Its almost like we were high on weed. Except maybe its just grief, they, we, try to hide.
Perhaps.
on a 3 second break,
jess
5 comments:
*hugs*
hugs back.. ps coffee girl coffee??
jess, you made that deep feeling of dread return... the one i got in the hospital, the same one i got when i received your call in the middle of the midnight movie. Does talking about it help the closure? or should those memories be packed into a case and buried? you tell me...
"Grief is an artist of powers as various as the instruments upon which he plays his dirges for the dead, evoking from some the sharpest, shrillest notes, from others the low, grave chords that throb recurrent like the slow beating of a distant drum. Some natures it startles; some it stupefies. To one it comes like the stroke of an arrow, stinging all the sensibilities to a keener life; to another as the blow of a blundgeon which, in crushing, benumbs" - Abrose Bierce 'The Boarded Window'
i know what you mean about the feeling of dread returning. very profound quote..
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