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Welcome to Sporks are Useless! A blog of random, useless, spork-like spam spontaneously posted by 2 authors, Hikari and Dancing Toast, twin girls with no lives, cranky and sarcastic attitudes, chaotically insane minds, and occasional violent mood swings. We will be responsible for making your visit to XXYYZ-I as frightening entertaining as possible.
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See you on the dark side of the moon!
~The Sporks Team, Hikari and DancingToast

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

A Memoir to my sweet, old Grandfather

This blog is like my diary, in a sense. On a happier note, see this link: [link] It's really sweet and cute. Continuing...
WARNING: DO NOT READ IF YOU CAN'T STAND EXTREME SADNESS.

So yesterday, 2/21/11, was President's Day, so we got a day off from school. I was hoping to sleep in for a very long time, but at around 7:00 a.m., I woke up from a nightmare.
Well, not so much a nightmare.
You see, as mentioned before, my grandfather died on 2/17/11. The first time I met him was when I was a baby, so I didn't remember that first visit at all. The second time I saw him was last year, 2010, during the summer break of my 6th grade year. I must say, I don't even know why he loved us so much when all I would do in his house was talk to Hikari or play on his computer all day when I could have bonded with him. That was the first and last time I remember seeing him alive, and I thought I could see him again and show him more respect and bond with him more. I couldn't, and this is my biggest regret.
So anyway, the dream was that I was really hungry, so my mother and I went to a restaurant and ate some sort of weird burrito. Anyway, I was full. My dead grandfather came along and asked us if we would eat some of his yellow rice porridge. We were full, so we said politely refused by lying that we would eat it later. He gave me this really sad smile, and I couldn't figure out why; until I remembered that he was dead, and I would never be able to refuse him again. I only realized later that it would be my last time to make amends. I woke up immediately after and cried. I believed that it was his soul, coming to maybe bond with me for one last time before he left to be reincarnated or something, and I refused it again like the not-wanting-to-bond teenager I was when I met him. It just so happened to be the very day my grandfather was cremated and buried in China when I dreamed this dream. I miss him so much, and he loved me so much, and I wish I could've showed him how much I loved him. I wish I could've stayed in that dream, to spend that one last chance with him again. But I didn't. And now I'm crying again by just remembering.


I can't believe how much of a horrible person I was to my grandfather. I made him suffer the cold air conditioning for my own selfish wants, and I ignored his efforts to bond with me, and when he did succeed in getting my attention, I was just impatient and wishing for the contact with him to end soon. Now I wish I could take those moments back. He was so sweet and kind, and his only wish was to spend time with his granddaughters that he battled and survived kidney problems for for seven or more years just to see. And when we hugged before our departure back to America, I couldn't help but have this sickening feeling that this would be the last time I would hug him and see him alive. I told myself not to think that way, but now it came true, and I can't help but think that it was that tiny, fleeting thought that killed him. the last time I talked to him was on the phone, and I hoped to talk to him again, after the operation, but I had the same horrible feeling again. And that became true, too. Hikari told my dad to tell my grandfather to keep holding on as soon as my grandfather was fit to speak. Within a few hours he was, and my father passed the message on. My grandfather began crying, and his condition was much better the next day.

The morning the news came, I was furious at the incessant ringing of the phone that woke me up so early, and how no one felt fit to pick it up. I now regret having felt this way as it was that phone call that delivered sorrow that could be found reverberating on the other side of the world. I couldn't even attend his funeral, just to see his sweet, kind face one more time before it was burned and buried underneath the ground forever, never to be seen by living eyes again. And I thought I could let him go, like my dad told me to do, but I tried, and I can't, because every spare moment I have is spent thinking about him. And every time I do anything, even think or laugh or eat, I just feel like I'm betraying his memory by not thinking about him, or thinking that I can experience these simple pleasures in life when he cannot ever again. Sometimes, when I was really frustrated or stressed, I thought about killing myself to make it all go away, and I would always back out of that thought because it would become to painful to bear, but after his death, I promised myself to never think that way ever again and live the life he gave to my father to give to me no matter how hard life became. I must sound like some stupid book now, but still.

Also, don't start pitying me or treating me like a delicate china doll that will commit suicide any second. Because I promised myself, and because I won't be able to stand your pity. It'll make me feel more like a self-centered, not-friend and china doll. So just channel those pitying thoughts into remembering my wonderful grandfather.

I'm sorry, Yeye, and I just kept pushing you away. I love you. I miss you.

1 people actually love us.:

Adeline said...

I'm so sorry for your loss :(