As you know, my grandpa passed away last sunday at around 3am in the morning. i was amongst those who were by his side.
After a great number of minutes spent grieving, my relatives decided to hold a 5-day wake at our home before cremating him on thursday morning. and decided to call singapore casket to 'bao' the whole funeral.
they were damn efficient, u know, set up the tents and all dat within hours. the appropriate rituals were done by professional monks too. (heard dat one of them drove a BMW.) wasnt too bad, in general. couple of grandpa's friends came, not to mention the whole extended family... several friends of my relatives came... sze, tuan and ayline came over too.
didnt feel particularly sad during the whole funeral though. it was as if... at the back of my mind, there was this thought, he's dead, his soul's actually gone, what we're doing is jus... for formality's sake...
i dunno. it was like in stark contrast to the extreme sadness i felt last year when my other grandpa as well as my granduncle passed away, and i had to attend their funeral, and cremation, respectively. then, i couldnt help thinking back on the moments we'd spent together, and have tears well up in my eyes... even now, these feelings have not gone...
but this year, i felt no such grief. alright, not so much as compared to last year. there was more like this... sense of relief. as well as this... insulation? this... layer that i feel is protecting me from the grief i might otherwise not bear?
relief as in i saw my grandpa suffering for so long... he.. couldnt even eat! or control his urinary/bowel movements. he looked so.... sad after the fall. and he was bedridden. wat worse thing can happen to u when u cant enjoy the simple pleasures of life like he did when he would exercise each morning by walking up and down the slope, the concrete path? then follow dat up with his daily breakfast of a banana, mueslibix? is dat the name? an egg... some bran... and milk... then he would settle down in his chair to read the newspapers... dissect the chinese newspapers such dat each sheet was separated from the rest (put me off chinese newspapers, dat did)... then at lunchtime he would want us to switch on the tv so he could listen to the 1pm news... then he'd take a nap... then go downstairs to sit in his chair and perhaps watch tv/korean/jap serials with my grandma? never knew wat he did then... was always upstairs... then have a shower and watch the 630 'shi chen jin ri' before taking dinner and napping? before watching the 10 o'clock news (sometimes)... and sleeping...
come to think of it i Knew his mundane routine and the thought that he couldnt do all that... i felt really sad for him. and then he had to get used to having a female nurse (and an unattractive one at dat) care for his daily needs...
in a way, u know, im glad he's finally passed on and not have to suffer all dat?

and this insulation. i think i understand the power of prayer, in a way, now. i remember distinctively repeating the first line of dat poster in the sickbay... yes 'Grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change'. it was dat simple sentence which really helped prevent me from breaking down dat night. alright it wasnt a prayer. but sometimes... i guess u jus need a sentence.. a thought... Anything. to hold on to to survive. perhaps prayers work in dat way. and perhaps the thought dat there is a God who cares for us is powerful enough to help us continue our lives, even with the passing on of our loved ones.