Its been awhile after my convocation...about 1 month. I had a lot in my mind a few days before the big day. One of it was not having my grandmother around. You see, she died of cancer last year. I was never close to her. Although she took care of me for a few years, I had always been the quiet and the grand-daughter who does not communicate much with her. I only realised I look up to her after she passed away. At the tender age of 40, she raised her 6 children, including her oldest son who is mentally handicapped. She raised her children single-handedly and got all of them married all.And all of them are living a good life now. She kept her oldest son with her, throwing into a fit if ever anyone suggests sending him to a special care home. She lived alone with him, doing all the house work and being independent enough until the disease struck her. She refused to accept the fact that the disease would cripple her and believed she would be cured. I saw her deteriorating slowly. The final draw came when she got tired easily, couldn't walk, couldn't chew solid food and even worse, she couldn't even go to the toilet.
You see, she had always had a soft spot for my brother and loved him dearly. She was always proud of whatever he does, no matter how petty it could be. It broke my heart when she couldn't smile or understand when my brother brought home strings of A's from his SPM examination. We had a small party to celebrate his and my sister's success in SPM. My grandma was staring into space and had such difficulty to chew the soft noodles we gave her. It was once, her favourite food. Until now I regret for not giving her a hug. I realized that I could not accept the fact that my once so-active grandma, is now practically immobile. Secretly I was wishing she would be cured and at least would start talking to us back.
On March 24th, I was in my campus and I had an uneasy feeling. I told my dad I wanted to come home and that was when he told me grandma wasn't doing good. I traveled back home, being the last person in the family to see her before she passed away two hours later. The only image I will bring to my grave is when they brought her back home, fully wrapped in white cloth. She did not look like my grandma. This lady was pale, totally shrunk and cold. Where is my grandma?
All these time, I still do not know why memories of her is so strong in me. Is it because I love her or is it because I respect her so much? But I know I miss her. I missed her during my convocation. I missed seeing her proud face on that day. I really really miss you grandma.... This is for you.....
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