the trip to the Olympics has been planned for a few months.
i took a plane to Malaysia on July 27, reaching on the 28th. the return flight was on July 31, and i arrived on the first day of August in Europe again. on the next day, i hopped on a train to go to Paris. four days later, i am back at my base and resuming the grieving.
it was a mental struggle to still go on with traveling to Paris after my ahnei left us. “ahnei” is how my brother and i called our paternal grandmother; it’s Hakka apparently. that’s one of the handful of Hakka words that i know, the others are: i am Hakka, eat rice, drink water, moron —— really just a handful.
to send off ahnei, i traversed Germany, the Netherlands (very briefly), Belgium and Qatar before finally arriving in Kuala Lumpur. it took over 10000km and almost 20 hours. her final journey was maybe about 100m and less than 7 minutes.
she was 88, a pretty nice number in the Chinese culture. however due to some kind of tradition that i don’t fathom, her age was listed as 92. not just that, apparently her father registered her birth much later… so her official age is 85. i could imagine her chuckling at these discrepancies. it took me until after her death and listening to anecdotes from other people to realise that she was a happy-go-lucky person, and very very chill; though i was under her care for 20 years. i was spoilt for 20 years.
after our mom left us 11 years ago, we celebrated Mothers’ Day with ahnei. well, it was more ceremonial than a real celebration if anything. my dad and my brother always brought her a flower bouquet and took pictures. so, we officially do not celebrate Mothers’ Day anymore in our household.
she was plagued with mild dementia towards the end, her short-term memory was basically non-existent; pretty much like Dory. she forgot many faces, but remembered names and could still do arithmetic. whenever i did a video call, she could almost always recognise me with my nickname and full name; there was only one time when she wrongly identified me because i didn’t call for almost 2 months… i was too stressed out. i don’t want to acknowledge that i regret not calling more often.
ever since i moved out, i knew that each time i saw her could be my last. i always took selfies and made sure to hold her hand when i could. the last time it happened, i was directing her to the bathroom while we were dining out; she held on tightly and i returned the intensity. i also made screenshots of her every time we had a video call. eventually, i will compile them into an album. not now.
on the morning of July 25, flights to return in September were booked. i decided to move the trip forward from December to visit her earlier. she did not suffer from any huge health issues —— her legs gave in about a week before she passed, rendering her not as mobile as she wanted to. but she was actually recovering slowly so the bad news in the wee hours on July 26 was sudden and unexpected. i was alone at home at that time, and wailed. the worst moment of my life thus far. with my mom, we saw her gradually pass… so an amount of mental preparation was already done.
being with my family physically helped but i still had trouble falling asleep at night. her usual waking hours were similar to mine and her bedroom door makes a screech so i always knew when she was up. sometimes, i would be worried when she was up a little late. i think i even woke her up once just to make sure she was still breathing (she was groggy and confused). our relatives from out of town stayed at our place for the funeral, in her room (which was the typical sleeping arrangement whenever they came over, or i went to sleep with ah nei while they took my room). on the plane home, i was dreading having to sleep alone in her room… maybe that was why i retained my own room this time. the relatives also got out of bed around the same time as her… so i still heard the screeching door at the same hours.
two Tuesdays ago, i defended my thesis and delivered what i consider as my best presentation ever considering how little i prepared; exactly one week later, four of ahnei’s grandchildren including me gave speeches —— even though i was the “most prepared” one, meaning i drafted the contents beforehand… it was still my worst speech ever: first i broke down crying after barely starting, then i ended up just mumbling. yikes. i could imagine her squinting her eyes in confusion, trying to make out what i was saying, and then trying to console me.
my best friend was with me in Paris, but not for its entirety. i shortened my trip to Paris by a good few hours: the idea of being alone was not at all attractive. on the outbound train ride, i shed tears a few times. therefore i decided against joining my fellow Malaysians to watch badminton on that day to support our home athletes; instead i loitered around until my best friend arrived. it felt weird to have fun when i was supposed to be mourning.
despite my initial gloominess, my mood improved at a moderate pace. the greatest sporting event in the world proved to be a great distraction, even for a slightly absent mind. très bien, Paris!
the grieving continued as i was on the way home, then i wept in the shower; tears are easy to hide under running water.
beside my desk there are the printed months of June and July 2024, as i had to work towards several deadlines up to the end of July. “the crazy eight weeks,” as i described it. the plan was to be absolved from them, before being able to thoroughly enjoy the short Olympics getaway. i have a habit of crossing out days, but sometimes i forget to do it.
the last date that i deleted is July 25, ahnei passed on July 26. how i wish that day would turn out differently
i don’t know if i can ever bring myself to remove this from the wall
i don't like kwy 