Thursday, August 08, 2013
Sometimes it's really surprising how the passing of someone can be so sudden. The hospitalisation of Eunos Grandpa last Thursday caught everyone by surprise. Even at the age of 90, he had been very strong and healthy, and he was even able to go about his daily routine around the neighbourhood.
I heard that on that Aug 1st afternoon, severe pains were developed within, and he was admitted to the hospital, with a diagnosis of Perforated Viscus (or bursting of the intestines). This is a very critical condition that requires a surgical emergency, because of the quick implications that may result from bacterial infection and the contamination by digestive juices. However, at age 90, the risks of an operation were very high and so the decision was not to proceed with an operation. With the fear that he might not be able to live past the night, the children and grandchildren were rushed down to the hospital.
Not being his direct grandchildren (he's my cousins' grandpa), my sisters and I played the role of taking care of Eunos Grandma at Aunt's house, when everyone else were at the hospital. I didn't get to visit him at the hospital that night, which would turn out to be his last night.
On Aug 2nd late afternoon, the hospital informed that his condition was very critical. Some of the family members rushed down, but it was already too late by the time anyone reached. Curtains had been drawn around the bed. When I reached the hospital from the office, it was about 1 hour since his death. Subsequently, Cousin and I began ushering the other family members who came after us.
And that led to a 6-day long wake at Eunos, where my family tried to help out the bereaved family wherever we could. I've past by countless Taoist wakes at void decks, always walking by hurriedly. But this time, though not directly involved, I had the chance to witness almost the full process from Day 1 to Day 6. I witnessed the process right from the setting up of the place, to the moment that the tent structures were removed; from the night when they awaited the arrival of the coffin, to the moment when it was pushed into the crematorium this afternoon. It felt surreal, because the series of events took place within too short a period of time, and that it was just this time last week that I last heard his voice, and I had taken it for granted.
It's sometimes during these kind of occasions when it's also most thought-provoking. I thought about how I may feel, if I was breathing my last and there were no one around my bed. I thought about how ironic it is, that relatives were forced to avail themselves in full attendance only when something big like this happens. As an observer during this funeral, I've seen alot over the past week and pondered over some questions. Oh yes, growing up in the neighbourhood, I also saw many familiar faces in the area at the funeral. I learnt that many of the people living in the Eunos flats came from a common 葱茅园 kampong (present day Ubi and Eunos), and they had shared a long and close neighbourliness relationship. With the slow demise of people from the Kampong-era, I'm certain that such warm ties between neighbours will fade too.
The passing of Eunos Grandpa will surely make a difference. The sudden quieter room; the end of the daily Today newspaper on the living room table; the lack of a familiar figure sitting at the stone bench downstairs; the disappearance of Grandma's dependency; the disuse of his personal utensils etc. Life must go on, and we will have to live with the change.
人生是黑白的.
12:16 AM <3
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