On the 21st of July at 10.30am, my maternal grandfather, lovingly known as Tata, passed away. He was admitted to the hospital for jaundice, got diagnosed with an 80% malignant tumor on his liver and slipped into a coma. 3 hours after I was told that my mother was on the way back to KL to visit him, my dad texts me and tells me that he had passed away.
Death, I have heard, is something you grow accustomed to. I guess as a 22 year old, I have never experience real loss as I have had all 4 grandparents up till now. So this shock reduced me into a blubbering bit of stammers as I frantically tried to get Jk on the phone to tell him what had happened. Bless him, he showed up on my doorstep on the 25th, ready to take care of me.
I guess this post is supposed to be a tribute of sorts. I realized that I never really thought my Tata showed us his love for us in an obvious way. He was a funny little happy man that always switched from Cantonese to Hakka, thinking I didn't understand the latter dialect. However, as traditionally chinese as he was, he never outrightly said "I love you". Not in Cantonese. Not in Hakka.
As I sat in my den, surrounded by the boxes that Oz had dumped in my house while she went off to her exchange in Spain, I hugged my knees, let out body racking sobs and thought about how pity-ful I was, having just lost my Tata while I was halfway across the globe, unable to rush back in time to attend his funeral and pay my respects and bid farewell to him, I came to the realization that my grandpa had never said those 3 little words, but if a picture were to say a thousand words, his actions spoke of a monumental love that he had for us.
My grandma, being blind and crippled, had lost her ability to cook for us. My grandfather, without complaining, took over that job, and as my grandma instructed him, became a master chef whose food will always hold a special place in my heart. My grandma and grandpa always knew I loved food (they could tell by my size, well grandpa at least, grandma relied on people to tell her I was well-built). They knew my favourite dishes and would set out to get the ingredients and prepare my favourite food whenever I came back for a visit. Grandpa never complained when my grandma ordered him about to get the freshest ingredient for preparation. he never asked for anything in return either.
He just beamed at the slightest praise I would commend him. That was all he wanted from us. All he needed.
That among other things showed his love for us. I just don't know how to write it all down now. I know that there will be many more posts to come about my grandparents, this one's just to commemorate my Tata in a way.
He's with the Lord now, in a better place. I don't believe in souls roaming about the world and eating offerings set out, but I like to think that perhaps now he can travel to Canada and see what it's like. I'm sure he'll love the Lamb Chop we have here.
Tata, I miss you and I love you and I'm sorry I never got to tell you that properly. <3
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