Gluttony gets you nowhere. Indulgence makes you happy for what you have until it's gone.There's a thought that always comes up in mind on September 23. Maybe it's the weather that always changes unpredictably. The inclement weather is unmerciful. It rains. It pours.
For some odd reason. For every few years (this year, too) that it does rain before this particular date, I feel as though the sky is crying for me.
It's been exactly four years since my grandfather has passed away. I can remember ever so clearly the moment I came home from school. We received a phone call from my father, who rarely calls, and rarely talks very quietly.
"Stephy, let me talk to your sister please."
I then handed the phone to my sister and walked over to the study room. A few minutes later, I see my sister already in tears, saying that my grandfather died approximately 10:00AM that day. I couldn't help but well up tears in my eyes the moment my sister cried out, "Grandpa passed away today." My siblings and I never cried so hard together, grieving our lost.
Seeing my grandfather in a casket was one of the most memorable yet most depressing moments of my life. I couldn't touch his forehead, I didn't want to feel how death feels. I was still in complete denial that my grandfather left us. After visiting him weekly at three different hospitals for two years, seeing him slowly open his eyes, and even touching his hands made me want to just imagine that he's still there. During that time when his health was returning, I still wonder even now,
"Why then?"
I think the most realistic and painful time I've ever experience was when I saw my father cried for the first time.
And probably for the last time.
For some odd reason. For every few years (this year, too) that it does rain before this particular date, I feel as though the sky is crying for me.
It's been exactly four years since my grandfather has passed away. I can remember ever so clearly the moment I came home from school. We received a phone call from my father, who rarely calls, and rarely talks very quietly.
"Stephy, let me talk to your sister please."
I then handed the phone to my sister and walked over to the study room. A few minutes later, I see my sister already in tears, saying that my grandfather died approximately 10:00AM that day. I couldn't help but well up tears in my eyes the moment my sister cried out, "Grandpa passed away today." My siblings and I never cried so hard together, grieving our lost.
Seeing my grandfather in a casket was one of the most memorable yet most depressing moments of my life. I couldn't touch his forehead, I didn't want to feel how death feels. I was still in complete denial that my grandfather left us. After visiting him weekly at three different hospitals for two years, seeing him slowly open his eyes, and even touching his hands made me want to just imagine that he's still there. During that time when his health was returning, I still wonder even now,
"Why then?"
I think the most realistic and painful time I've ever experience was when I saw my father cried for the first time.
And probably for the last time.
Losing my grandfather was like losing a father to me. He took care of me when I was little and always made funny jokes behind my grandmother. And now... all that I have now from him are birthday cards and shards of memories that I may just forget. I hope I don't forget.
So here's to you grandpa. I hope you're watching up from above and know that all of us are okay. We're getting through this and we want you to know that we are happier that you left an unfair world to a better place. It's been four years, but it felt just like yesterday since you left your physical presence. Hope we can visit you soon.
Our family and loved ones are indulgences. Like the Häagen-Dazs® Vanilla and Almond ice cream bar, we should all be grateful for what we have, because we know there will always be a day when they're gone. However, we must also appreciate the moments and the cherished recounts that there was and never let those times die out from time.
