A Moment of Silence in Respect of .....

It was almost 2 a.m. and I was lying in bed reading Archie comics. My bedtime food for senseless comedy. My phone buzzed with an incoming message. I casually reached for my phone, thinking it was just another message sent to the wrong person. I'm no Miss Popular. I do not receive messages at 2 a.m..

Then I saw my brother's name on the screen.
Oh? Does he have new dog tales to relate?
I opened the message and there it was right to my face...
"Fat (yes, my glamorous nickname). 'Yama' has passed away this morning at 6 a.m.. Call mum later."

A chill ran through me - didn't help either that it is autumn now. How could this be? I mean, yes I know that her health had been deteriorating for the longest time but she somehow managed to pull through death scares. How many times have I been told when I went back home for holiday, "You must go see Yama. I don't think she will pull through much longer." And even though she looked ghastly bad and even worse each time I visited, she was there in silent comprehension of everyone's existence. And after some time, one just naturally assumes that she possesses immortality and respect to her gusto of hanging on to her thin thread of life despite living in a state of vegetation. She was wheelchair bound and lost her ability of speech. The family was planning for her to receive treatment in China and so I guess she finally gave up her will to live. The family knows it is for the best. Even so, it all seems so surreal... and far away.... and then thoughts start playing with my mind... maybe, just maybe, I should really call it quits and head back home... permanently. My mum, my dad... what if? I shuddered. I closed my eyes, prayed for her and went to sleep.

Not that I was ever that close to my grandmother; I was after all the youngest daughter of her youngest daughter. In a traditional Chinese family of 4 sons and 4 daughters, being the daughter of the youngest daughter, you will pretty much be an abstract art somewhere in the background. I only hold 3 memories of my grandmother -

1. Me as a young kid (maybe 4? 5?), she brought me to church with her as her "little Japanese Doll" granddaughter. I was some Sunday School and was given a picture of Jesus Christ to colour. I started to show the my "creative talents" then as I coloured all 10 fingers of Jesus in different colours.

2. At 14, she helped me sew, on her classic treadle machine, the binding of a baby dress that I had to complete for Home Economics class. I topped the class on that sewing project.

3. A moment captured on camera during my brother's wedding on 30th December 2003.... she was already wheelchair bound by then but could still move her hands a little. There she was with her maid, smiling away and waving to no one. I remember choking a little when I saw that moment on tape, and persisted in editing that special moment of her into the wedding video. If anything, I knew that it was a moment that would mean more to my mum than me.

So yeah, that is about as much as I remember of my grandmother.

The funeral's on Tuesday. I managed to arrange for a flight back on Sunday, arriving Singapore monday morning. It will be odd seeing the entire family again without the existence of my grandmother. She was the drawing power that kept the obnoxiously dysfunctional family together and for everything else, she was a very fortunate old lady who had 8 filial children. For all the screw-ups, they provided her the best and never failed to be there for her. Having lived to a ripe old age of 80-something with all her children by her side, it IS the best return for any mother....

I know that she is now in a better realm, in a special place... May she rest in peace.