I'm here without you.

Grand dad, I grew up with fear at the very thought of you.

When you’d slam the front doors when you came back from your walk.

Or the way you’d glare at me as you smoked your cigarettes.

I thought you hated me the most.

As I grew up, I learnt more about you, heard about your childhood.

Felt pity for you, and eventually love, albeit from a distance.

You were complicated. You were troublesome, you were a burden to grandmother.

But you couldn’t be blamed for anything.

I’m just sad that I didn’t get to say goodbye.

I’m sad that I didn’t get to be a grand daughter to you, nor you a grandfather to me.

I’m sad you weren’t saved, or that you never experienced love and joy.

I’m sad you didn’t know the people who loved you.

You were a constant in my life.

Your walks, your smell, your store room, your clocks, your trips to Mua during Chinese New Year and Christmas, anything you could to be away from us.

I can still remember you muttering away about what a nuisance Justin and I were.

I’m sad, you probably didn’t even know my name.

Gong Gong. When we passed each other on the streets, you saw me with the eyes of a stranger.

No records of you, no pictures with you.

I saw you more recently, as a cute, misunderstood, grumpy old gummy bear.

You made me realize just how strong grandma is. You know you could never live without her, no matter how much you denied it.

It hurt to see you so weak. I was always convinced you’d come back, and stand back up on your feet. Your stubborn nature was a huge deciding factor in that. So, its no surprise that your passing has come as a shock to me. You bounced back after your stroke. I was sure you’d come back from this.

At least you’ve gone to rest now.

These 15 years with you in life have been interesting. You were a constant. You, though you didn’t realise it, were a uniting factor in this family.

You left behind so much. Your random papers in the drawers,

the store room that looks like the entrance to Narnia.

Your antics as told by grandma made me smile.

Your last waking moments were indirectly spent with your family. You were snoozing upstairs while we were having our reunion dinner downstairs.

I didn’t get to tell you goodbye. I didn’t even see you the whole week. You parted so suddenly. This rain will wash away everything, a new start for all.

Grand dad, you were special, though you didn’t know it.

I remember every Saturday after swimming lessons, when we came over. Your black umbrella was an indication of your presence. When it was there, we said a quick ‘Hello Gong Gong”, while you were eating your lunch. You would glare at us, and we’d dart behind to the safety of the kitchen, and grandma.

We dare not sit in your arm chair, nor watch TV while you were around. Your slamming of the grilled doors could make us shoot upstairs, quick as lightning.

I remember my mum’s tone of gratification when she received your approval. She helped you move and clean your shelves, and she came back telling me, “I think Gong gong’s happy with me”.

You never knew how.

No matter how, you’re always enough to tug at my heartstrings. I never knew you. I remember you for nailing the ‘Beware of Dog’ sign on the gate, even though we didn’t have one, just to keep people away. I remember trying to make sense of those random papers you made signs of and pasted on the doors. More over, I laughed, doubled over, when I found out you gave yourself the name of ‘Frank’.

Most recently, I remember that you bought a pair of lycra aerobic pants. You. Grandfather. I’ll see you.

Grand daddy, wherever your soul and spirit may be,

I just hope its happy and at rest.

When my O's are done over with,

this blog will be restored to its former glory.

Hehhhh.

:)

Love all ye olde faithful.