(no subject)
My grandfather passed away a few hours ago. It happened in his sleep, so we're not sure when. He was my last grandparent alive. He turned 93 in January. That makes him 94 according to Chinese tradition.
My mum called to tell us the news. I was upset, but not surprised. My sister broke down in tears. And as a result, so did my mum. I am without tears. Does that make me strong? Or heartless? I refuse to think about it, to dwell on it. I refuse to break down. And I also know that if I started crying whilst talking to my mum, she would cry to. Fortunately (?), I really don't know how to react appropriately in any given situation. I don't cry.
The hard part is, I don't think he ever repented. I can only pray that my aunt who has been caring for him for the last few years has had the chance to share the gospel with him. But my faith is weak, and I fear the judgement he will face. But I was too weak myself, I wasn't able to love him as a grandchild should. I don't even know if I will be going back for his funeral. My final exams are in a month. Not to mention the coursework deadlines I have before then. Why I should let these things bother me over family, puzzles me still. Funny how I only think about myself when my mother's father just lost his life.
Actually, I worry about my mum. We knew this day would come. We could see his health deteriorating, and some parts of us even started planning for the day when we did not have to take him into account anymore. Morbid. But he was IS her father. So she hurts and grieves.
Was it by coincidence, or was it by divine fate, that my mum happened to just arrive in Malaysia, in time for his death? Did she manage to see him? Or was she just that little too late? I dare not ask, for fear of breaking her heart. But my mother is strong, the strongest woman in my life. She raised the 4 of us, mostly single-handedly, when my father was out of town most of the time. She managed to acquire her employer's firm, and managed it into two subsidiaries, giving ownership of the management side to my grandfather. Whether or not it was as tribute, I'm not entirely sure..
My grandfather, Teoh Chye Hin (Teoh being the surname), certainly deserves his tribute. During the peak of his involvement, he coached the state football team to become national champions, holding the position for a number of years. He has also been on the board of members for the Perak Turf Club (state horse-racing track), widely regarded as a prestigious position. As a result, he has earned and held the honorific of Dato', for as long as I can remember (possibly over 20 years).
If I go back, I'll have a lot of explaining to do at university. Which may result in me having to repeat the year. Desirable? Hmm. I'm still too self-serving; I ought to read through some Psalms tonight.
My mum called to tell us the news. I was upset, but not surprised. My sister broke down in tears. And as a result, so did my mum. I am without tears. Does that make me strong? Or heartless? I refuse to think about it, to dwell on it. I refuse to break down. And I also know that if I started crying whilst talking to my mum, she would cry to. Fortunately (?), I really don't know how to react appropriately in any given situation. I don't cry.
The hard part is, I don't think he ever repented. I can only pray that my aunt who has been caring for him for the last few years has had the chance to share the gospel with him. But my faith is weak, and I fear the judgement he will face. But I was too weak myself, I wasn't able to love him as a grandchild should. I don't even know if I will be going back for his funeral. My final exams are in a month. Not to mention the coursework deadlines I have before then. Why I should let these things bother me over family, puzzles me still. Funny how I only think about myself when my mother's father just lost his life.
Actually, I worry about my mum. We knew this day would come. We could see his health deteriorating, and some parts of us even started planning for the day when we did not have to take him into account anymore. Morbid. But he was IS her father. So she hurts and grieves.
Was it by coincidence, or was it by divine fate, that my mum happened to just arrive in Malaysia, in time for his death? Did she manage to see him? Or was she just that little too late? I dare not ask, for fear of breaking her heart. But my mother is strong, the strongest woman in my life. She raised the 4 of us, mostly single-handedly, when my father was out of town most of the time. She managed to acquire her employer's firm, and managed it into two subsidiaries, giving ownership of the management side to my grandfather. Whether or not it was as tribute, I'm not entirely sure..
My grandfather, Teoh Chye Hin (Teoh being the surname), certainly deserves his tribute. During the peak of his involvement, he coached the state football team to become national champions, holding the position for a number of years. He has also been on the board of members for the Perak Turf Club (state horse-racing track), widely regarded as a prestigious position. As a result, he has earned and held the honorific of Dato', for as long as I can remember (possibly over 20 years).
If I go back, I'll have a lot of explaining to do at university. Which may result in me having to repeat the year. Desirable? Hmm. I'm still too self-serving; I ought to read through some Psalms tonight.