I left Singapore on Friday morning for the Philippines. Later this evening, I'll be heading back. It's a bit random to travel overseas in the middle of the term, I know. But I didn't go back for any frivolous reason. It was my grandfather's 75th birthday. My aunt organized this big celebration and I didn't want to miss it for the world.
My grandparents mean a lot to me. Growing up, my parents weren't always around. For most of my childhood, my dad was abroad, and there was only mum at home. When she was at work, it was my grandparents who looked after me and my brother. I lived next door to my grandparents back then, and at night, I would go over to their place just to sleep next to my grandmother. When my mum finally left to follow my dad in Singapore, it was truly just me, my brother, and them. We lived like that...for about two precious years.
It's short, now that I look back and think about it, but I was really cared for in those two years. I don't mean to sound sappy, but I feel like it was thanks to the love that they showed, a love which knew no limits, that I'm the person who I am today. It allowed me to face the world knowing that there will always be people who have my back, no matter what.
They were the ones who cooked my favourite food, made my hair look presentable, woke me up every morning, made sure I didn't get mixed up with bad company...I could go on forever, but I'm sure you get what I mean. There was this time when I broke my left arm, and I couldn't eat properly. My grandfather, during that duration, went all the way to school during my lunch time and helped me eat. Yeah, they kind of spoiled me haha.
When I finally migrated to Singapore, it meant that I had to leave them behind. I was a mess at the airport, I remember. This fat kid, crying his eyes out, blubbering. I didn't want to leave them behind. There were my friends that I was going ot miss, and the Filipino food, and culture, and my school. But I knew for certain that they were the ones I was going to miss the most. True enough, there were times, having just arrived in Singapore, where I caught myself staring out of the window, wondering how they were doing back home.
Of course, as I grew older, I lost touch with them. I was swept away by my new environment - the flurry of activities, school, friends, puberty, the internet, whatever. There were so many things, and I guess we grew further and further apart. The geographical distance became all the more real, and tangible. It wasn't just a matter of me being here, and them being there - there's also this fact that we were just living separate lives.
But they loved me still, and I could always feel that. My grandparents came to stay with us in Singapore from time to time. They didn't really like it because there's nothing much for them to do here, other than watch TV. But I could still that they liked being able to spend time with us. And I too liked spending time with them.
When my grandmother passed away about two years ago on February 20th, it was a terrible time for us all. We knew that she wasn't always in good health...but it was so sudden, and unexpected. It took me by surprise. I was 19 then. In all my 19 years, I had never come in contact with death. And then, without warning, it's reality took over me, like a cold wind.
We flew back from Singapore...just in time. When we got news that she was rushed to the hospital, I sought for leave, and then, that very night, we left. When we got there, she was already in intensive care. I never imagined I would see my grandmother in such a state. She was alive, but unresponsive. Different tubes went into her body. She was still breathing, but she was cold. Later in the night, she passed on. It was as if she was waiting for us to return home.
I'm not going to write how much she means to me...as I am now, I don't think my words can do my feelings any justice.
The funeral happened a few days later. I accompanied her to the mortician, and held her hand, even as she had passed on. It was very surreal. When her body was finally buried, and the last of the earth had been swept over the coffin, I felt that I had lost a part of me. I thought about all the things I wanted to say to her, and wondered whether she ever really knew that I loved her, you know? On the day of her funeral, white balloons were released into the sky.
So it's only my grandfather who is with us now. He's a quiet man, but he has his moments. He's good-natured, and even though he doesn't say it, he really loves us. I admire him from the bottom of my heart. As I sit here typing this, I think about how I want to do him proud and show him how great a man his grandson can be.
During his birthday, everybody said his or her piece about him. You know, a few words about how awesome he is, and all that. I said some things, but I guess what I'm writing here are the things that I actually wanted to say. I tend to hold back my feelings, and my thoughts, because I'm never truly sure of them. I prefer to write them, revise them, and in that process, confirm them.
I'm coming back home tonight. I can feel the "resume" button being pressed somewhere. Honestly, me being here in the Philippines has meant that there's only a limited things I can do. At least, that's my excuse. Once I get back though, there'll be no more excuses. I'm going to leave my grandfather again, and my aunt, and my uncle, and everyone. I feel that they have high hopes for me. I think everyone has high hopes for me actually. I conduct myself with a certain level of confidence, and pride...but sometimes I think that it's just a facade.
What am I? As of now, I am nothing. Time to man up.
May my grandmother rest in peace, may my grandfather be with us for a long time, and may everybody appreciate the fragility of life and live it to the fullest.
I'm out.
PS: I didn't mean to be so sappy haha. I'm not usually like this. Or am I? *shrugs*
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