4th October 2007
I went to bed with my eyes closed but my mind wide open. Just when I thought the rollercoaster had finally come to a stop, off it went again. I was so tired. I was so tired of the whole thing already. I just want to sleep through it. I just want to forget about the whole thing and pray that when I wake up, this was all just a nightmare.
Earlier In the Day
Gosh, it was so hard to believe I’ve already been back to Japan for two weeks. With a new set of determination, I intended to make the best of things. I gave a smile to each and every person that crossed my path. I even tried to talk to the perfect stranger who was sitting in one or two of the lectures I took. The fresh enthusiasm was working out perfect for me. Everything seemed so much more amazing and pretty when you’re optimistic.
So right after my last class, I happily walked to the E-Lounge, a place where all Keio University students, staffs and lecturers are allowed to sit down and talk about anything in English. The guy who was responsible for the place was a nice character. He is an African American lecturer for the literature department. I went there regularly to enjoy a good conversation or just to meet new people. That day, I went there with the same old me.
After sitting there for about half an hour, I received a phone call. It was from my cousin. That was very odd because my cousin never called me from Malaysia before during that hour of the day. I picked up the phone and my cousin told me that my grandfather was suffering from a stroke. The news caught me by surprise but I thought well, my grandfather was an old man and things like these were bound to happen sooner or later. I decided not to let the news have the best of me cause I still had to attend a birthday dinner later at night.
After the birthday dinner, while walking back from the station to my home, I called my cousin again to check up on my grandfather. This time, I finally realized that it might no longer be a false alarm. My cousin told me that my grandfather had become senile and that he was mumbling things that no one could understand. To make matters worse, one of the monks (or someone similar to his ranks) told my family that my grandfather was standing on the top of a bridge and was ready to jump. This is a metaphor of course. There’s no actual river near my house. He said that it was all up to him now and that there was nothing else anyone could do to save my grandfather. My mind was too distracted by the fact that my grandfather might be kicking the bucket to be paying attention to all the mumbo jumbo. My cousin had to hang up all of a sudden. I was worried. I finally understood the magnitude of the situation.
Upon arriving home, I called my mother again. This time, she told me that my cousin was busy attending to his mother, my aunt as she had fainted. I could hear many voices in the background. My mum told me that every one had gathered to see my grandfather at my aunt’s house. As I spoke to my mum, I could hear the sadness in her voice. It was heartbreaking to hear her so sad. She might not have the best relationship with my grandfather for a very long time but I could tell that she had always cared about him.
To come to think of it, maybe there were many signs that were trying to hint me. When I returned back to Kuching, my grandfather was awfully cheerful. He was beaming from ear to ear. I drove him out twice with my cousin and my brother to go and buy things. Both times, he was happy and when we went to lunch, he was extremely nice to my brother. You may think it has got to be common for a grandfather to be nice to his grandchildren. Well, that wasn’t the case with my grandfather. Because of my stepfather, my grandfather had always been partial when it came to my brother and sister. It was obvious that he didn’t like them very much. But this time around, he was different. He was nice to him. And then there was one more thing. Right after I left Kuching, my grandfather called my mother over and said very nice things to her. It seemed like he, himself knew about this day already.
As I remembered all the good things that my grandfather did for me, I began to feel guilty for despising him all these years. For many years, I blamed him for treating my siblings poorly. For many years, I blamed him for the way he treated my mother. But for many years, I kept forgetting that he always cared and tried to be there for me. He was the one who always asked if my stepfather was being nice to me. He was the one who was always there when I grew up. I began to realize how big of hypocrite I became. I preached about forgiveness but I never forgave. I never forgave until that day. The day I finally realized that when I woke up the next day, he might not be around anymore. And the worse thing, I could not even be there when he bid his last farewell.
I went to bed with my eyes closed but my mind wide open. Just when I thought the rollercoaster had finally come to a stop, off I went again. I was so tired. I was so tired of the whole thing already. I felt so helpless. I just want to sleep through it. I just want to forget about the whole thing and pray that when I wake up, this was all just a nightmare. I went to bed praying that when I woke up the next day and call my mum, she would tell me that my grandfather is still around and still living and kicking. Hopefully.
(to be continued)
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