Filed under: Friemily, God, V | Tags: death, funeral, Grandma, World War II
I’ve always felt a special affinity for grandma.
It isn’t so much because i used to spend my school hols over at her place, nor that i’d inherited from her bunions (bones jutting out beside the big toes) through my mother.
I finally found out why on the third day of grandma’s wake.
It was 1942, during the World War II Japanese occupation.
The family had sought asylum in a bomb shelter, but a headcount check soon revealed that her fifth daughter, a newborn, had been left in the open. Grandpa being the practical man he was tried to dissuade her from heading out to dangerous ground, saying that they already had four children and that she shouldn’t risk her life. But grandma refused to heed his warning, and dashed out to bring her daughter to safety. (The exact spot where her daughter had been left was later one of the spots bombed.)
That gift of life was repaid some near-60 years later, when daughter #5 brought grandma to Christ and helped her receive the gift of eternal life.
And just how do i fit into the picture?
Daughter #5 is my mother.
Filed under: Friemily, God, Pain, V | Tags: Christmas, death, funeral, Grandma
This is my most sombre Christmas yet.
Before there was a chance to rejoice over the Saviour’s birth, i had to grapple with a death in the family.
Grandma passed away on Christmas eve, just a couple of hours shy of a cosy family dinner we had planned a day before. It didn’t exactly come as a shock, but it wasn’t particularly easy either as i’d thought she had shown signs of improvement – twitching of her left leg and batting of her right eye as mum sang her Chinese hymns that afternoon – after around 3 days of being in a state of constant sleep.
It was difficult, to say the least, to be joyful even though i was thoroughly convicted that grandma had departed for a much better place. I’d been struggling the past 2 weeks or so of her hospitalisation – part of me wanted her to go so bad because i couldn’t bear to see this fragile 95-year-old woman i love hooked up to all those tubes, while another part of me just wanted desperately to spend more time with her physical being.
One particular line in ODB’s 25 Dec edition struck/touched me: “Whatever your difficulties, they needn’t spoil Christmas, for nothing can spoil Christ!”
I ought to count my blessings, i admit. He granted me my wish a year ago for grandma to witness my church wedding. This time round, I asked God to let me be around when grandma went off. He didn’t let me see her take her last breath, but He made me the last grandchild to see her before she passed on, and the first to see her after she went to be with the Lord.
Most of all, i’m just thankful that she’s in her glorious mansion in Heaven, because that’s where she deserves to be.
I don’t know where to begin.
The past 3 weeks (has it been 3?!) has been a blur. Or should i say a life in fast-forward mode. Maybe a nightmare that lasted too long would be more apt.
I should have seen it coming, i suppose. Before i’d even started work, my supervisor already texted me to “ask for my opinion” about a work issue. And she’d requested for me to start work on Fri, after the Deepavali hol, instead of the Mon after.
But the first hint of real trouble came on my very first day of work, when i had to stay back an hour after knock-off time. Then it was that i had to buy food back instead of a leisurely hour-long lunch. Then it became working till about 10pm for 3 consecutive nights.
And all this happened during my first week of work.
I’m not proud of this, but i finally threw the letter after just 10 working days. It could have been 8, if not for the fact i held back due to an event i was managing. It bugged me very much that i’d be perceived as one who caved after 2 weeks of work. But it also bugged me that if i didn’t quit i wouldn’t be cutting my losses short.
What do i mean? I think at this point in my life, i want to have a life outside of work. I’m not lazy, but i think there are better things to do than to slog it out in the office and feel shitty about going in to work in the mornings. I want quality, not quantity, in terms of work output. And even though i work in a team, i want autonomy and control over my work, not just be a puppet or runner.
There are more reasons to why i’ve chosen to leave, of course. Ask me about it if you’re interested… there are some things that are just inconvenient to blog about.
The ironic part of my short-lived employment is that i’m actually serving more than a month of notice, again at the request of my supervisor. (Haa, i’ve been told that i’m “very nice”.)
But it’s all good. Now, another new beginning to look forward to.
