since 1919

this post has the meaning of farewell to me to my grandmother.

no, she’s not dead and it’s not that i want her dead either. but i think living a prolonged suffering life is never the best. it’s just she’s in the hospital struggling, refusing the oxygen mask that is very thing that is keeping her still alive.

money can solve lots of problems. it can prolong life, save lives but sometimes not painlessly.

i don’t know what it means to be knighted with the title of being her most beloved grandson, or her youngest son, a title she has recently bequested on me.

and i do. i do love her. i love my grandma. she leads by example. her motto are perseverance and hardwork. she would call me every day, brainwash me with chinese idioms:
“one inch of time is one inch of gold, but one inch of gold can’t buy an inch of time”
“there is no extend to the sea of knowledge, only hardwork will bring you to the shore”
“if you are young and lazy, you will be twice as sad when you are old”
another one about you always have to be hardworking because if you don’t work hard, you’ll fall behind since everyone else is hardworking.

she suffered a stroke that has slightly paralyzed the right side of her body.
she always showed up. before her brief stay in the hospital in january, she woke up everyday and sat her workstation reading and cutting out newspaper.
she called her grandchildren, daughters, and son-in-laws everyday to check up on them and update them on the news that they didn’t read in the paper today.

i watched the ending of a movie. and it said the same thing about life. life is a test, a test for everyone. we all make mistakes, but if we keep trying, we will get what we want. (it’s a movie).

i don’t know what the title of being her grandson means. death is always a contentious issue. there’s always people who are not ready to let go. i wish i could decide but i know i won’t be because it’s not my call to make.

she would always tell us, “1919.”

everyday i read the news and you heard one person die in a traffic accident, another person dead from a heat stroke, one more killed by a crazy knife-slashing lunatic. sometimes, i just put down the paper before i get through it because it’s too much for me just to imagine one family crying their hearts out for the poor guy that died.

i’m reading a book. stumbling on happiness.
it says something about how we have a psychological immune system, something that allows us to keep living after tragic things happen to us, about how we regret inactions more than actions.

she will die but we will live, keeping her in our memories. and i think it is time to let go before it is too late.


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