My foster grandfather (Ah Gong) passed away earlier this week. It wasn't an emotional event for me because I was not close to him. However his death and the subsequent events evoked many thoughts. I've wrote about death and my thoughts about it before. I'd like to share something from a slightly different perspective.
After Ah Gong's death, his children wanted the entire family to gather. My uncle and auntie requested for my presence vide my mom. I didn't turn up for several reasons. Firstly it is too close to Chinese New Year and my mom didn't think that it was a good idea. Obviously didn't tell her siblings that. Secondly, I am not close to my Ah Gong and I had no feeling about his passing. I know I may sound awfully heartless but it's the truth. Thirdly, if I went to the wake and funeral, I would not have been able to go visiting during Chinese New Year, according to custom. That would not have been nice for my kids.
My Ah Gong was a very quiet man. He never spoke much and when he did, he was very soft spoken. I don't recall much conversation between us even though we were neighbours for at least a decade. But I can imagine that he worked very hard. In fact my foster grandmother (Po Po) did too. They had 6 children, including my mom. My mom was fostered, or in those days sold, to them when she was a baby/toddler. The family stayed on the second floor of a shop house near the Singapore River. I remember visiting them when I was very young. When I was in primary school, both grandparents moved into the flat next to ours, in Telok Blangah, with my uncle and auntie. They were the youngest of the 6 and only a few years older than me. My aunt was 2 years older than me.
My mother never told me much of her life story. She would just share snippets about how she had to take care of her siblings from a young age. My mom had to stop her education after a few years in primary school because of financial reasons. There were just too many children and I suppose she wasn't given much priority since she was a girl and fostered. Much of what I learnt was from eavesdropping on my mom's telephone calls or chit chat sessions with her friends. I learnt of sibling rivalry, jealousy, conflicts, etc.
After we moved to Pasir Ris, we visited my grandparents once a year during Chinese New Year. We also met for dinner during Po Po's birthday. I don't recall having dinner during Ah Gong's birthday. My memory may have failed me. I see Ah Gong and Po Po occasionally when we meet by chance. I greet them, they ask me how I am, we chit chat for a while and then it's till the next time, whenever that is.
I remember vividly that I said a prayer a couple of days after learning about Ah Gong's cancer. My mom told me that the doctors gave him 2 days because the cancer has infected both his lungs. On the third day, I said a prayer. I asked God to take away Ah Gong's suffering. He passed away the next day. God answered my prayer. I did not ask for him to die but at least his suffering ended.
My relatives may despise me for not turning up when he was waiting for his death. They may call me disrespectful for not turning up at the wake and funeral. They may never look me up again. Till someone's death did we really part our ways.
A death in the family may pull a family apart or bring it closer together. I don't understand why many people wait till a death before they decide that the rest of the family should get together. Just like why we need a Mother's Day to remind ourselves to give thanks to our moms. How much closure can we get at a person's deathbed, wake or funeral? What if you arrive at the deathbed one minute too late? Would you live the rest of your live without closure? Why leave things to chance? Say your "Thank you", "I love you" and "Sorry" today. Don't wait till it's too late.
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