The passing
I should have blogged about this earlier but I have been feeling an aversion towards blogging lately. My maternal grandfather passed away about 3 weeks ago. He was my last remaining grandfather. My paternal grandfather died when I was only a month old.
He passed away swiftly. On the third day after he was admitted to hospital. I was there everyday in the hospital. Even on the first day when he was admitted into hospital, I was surprised at how thin he became. In my memory, he was a fit person who could walk faster than many younger people but what I saw lying on the hospital bed was a pale shadow of him.
There was hardly any flesh left on him, the muscles wasted as his body slowly catabolized itself. I heard from my mother that he had not eaten for a month and it seems he knew his time was coming. He had been trying to settle outstanding matters in the past few months. He and my grandmother also grew closer to each other. My mother recounted seeing them share bowls of food together in recent times whereas usually they would be quarreling with each other.
I saw his condition deteriorating quickly and on the second day in hospital, he was gasping for breath. Each breath seemed to suck a little more life out of him. On the third day, he was unconscious, and seemingly after waiting for everyone he knew to have visited him, he gave up fighting.
Honestly, I was not very sad at his passing. For one thing, I was not close to him. There was a language barrier and he was an independent person who was often out of the house. And secondly, his death was sort of expected since he was very old already. It would be better for him to go off peacefully, rather than struggle on.
I was surprised at how swiftly things proceeded on after his death. Some of my relatives had contacts with people in the funeral industry and soon, his body was removed from the hospital, sent to the funeral company for make up, and the funeral wake was set up at the ground floor of my place. This was all done in the night that he passed away.
I shall end my blog post here and perhaps I will blog further about the happenings in the wake and my feelings.
He passed away swiftly. On the third day after he was admitted to hospital. I was there everyday in the hospital. Even on the first day when he was admitted into hospital, I was surprised at how thin he became. In my memory, he was a fit person who could walk faster than many younger people but what I saw lying on the hospital bed was a pale shadow of him.
There was hardly any flesh left on him, the muscles wasted as his body slowly catabolized itself. I heard from my mother that he had not eaten for a month and it seems he knew his time was coming. He had been trying to settle outstanding matters in the past few months. He and my grandmother also grew closer to each other. My mother recounted seeing them share bowls of food together in recent times whereas usually they would be quarreling with each other.
I saw his condition deteriorating quickly and on the second day in hospital, he was gasping for breath. Each breath seemed to suck a little more life out of him. On the third day, he was unconscious, and seemingly after waiting for everyone he knew to have visited him, he gave up fighting.
Honestly, I was not very sad at his passing. For one thing, I was not close to him. There was a language barrier and he was an independent person who was often out of the house. And secondly, his death was sort of expected since he was very old already. It would be better for him to go off peacefully, rather than struggle on.
I was surprised at how swiftly things proceeded on after his death. Some of my relatives had contacts with people in the funeral industry and soon, his body was removed from the hospital, sent to the funeral company for make up, and the funeral wake was set up at the ground floor of my place. This was all done in the night that he passed away.
I shall end my blog post here and perhaps I will blog further about the happenings in the wake and my feelings.
posted by k3ndr1ck at 8:53 AM
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