It all started with a panicky phone call from my aunt when I was on my way out for lunch on Wed, then came the endless days & nights of tears, disbelief, guilt and regret.
Tears for not being able to rush to the hospital in time to see him for the last time. No more booming voice and that hearty laugh of his. Disbelief at the news that came so suddenly. Guilt for not having visited him often enough, always thinking "there'll still be time". Regretful at not being a better and more filial granddaughter.
It's uncanny how he seemed able to sense when his own time was almost up, doing all the things he wouldn't have normally done.
Staring at his photo just brought back repeatedly the image of his peaceful face lying on that hospital bed, just like he was only in a deep sleep...
All we can do now is to treasure Ah Ma and to visit her more often. Afterall, who but her'll feel the hurt and pain so much worst than us?
At the end of it, there's no point in anything anymore when all's been said and done.
