My grandmother died at her age of eighty, and today there will be a funeral for her. It’s difficult for her children to take the fact. From the time the doctor gives an announcement that the uncontrollable brain cancer in grandma’s head spreads quickly until the day she actually passes away, she suffers for only two months. All this happened so fast that makes the death of my grandmother unreal to everyone.
When she is still alive, my relationship with grandma is not intimate as that of my younger brother, who visits her twice a week after class. As a matter of fact, I haven’t talked to her since I was little, what is more, I even try to avoid having eye contact with her in every family union. The reason why there is great distance between us will come out to be ridiculous or irrational for the common people, but it’s enough for a person who get nervous easily like me.
About the age of six when I was still in nursery school, my mother took me one day to the hospital without giving me any explanation. In my memory, that was actually the first time I went to a hospital. Before stepping into the room with red and yellow symbols on the door, I saw my uncles and two of my cousins sitting rigidly on the plastic chairs with uneasy facial expressions. With no time to exchange words, my mother grabbed my hands tightly so that next second we stepped into the room. All of a sudden, I saw a horrible image which I try to erase from my memory until today.
Through the shadows of the alien-like people who covered their faces almost entirely, dressing in green robe and making blurred sounds, there was grandma’s naked body, a body inserted by different kinds of plastic tubes, the big, the small, the white and the transparent. I was deeply shocked at the first sight, and those alien-like creatures just kept doing something terrible on my grandma’s lifeless body.
“Grandma was dead!” hopelessly, I screamed out and started to weep. However, my mother seemed not to care about my nervousness. Under the panic situation that my grandma was diagnosed with cardiopathy, it’s understandable that my mother didn’t spare her attention to care about my feelings.
“My dear, say something to your grandma,” spoke mom with tears rolling in her eyes, and she pushed me forward to lean on the edge of the patient’s bed. ”maybe it’s your last chance to talk.”
With no choice, I made up my courage and finally stared at grandma’s face. It was horribly pale, pale like a piece of white paper, but I could tell that she was still alive, for there was slight vibration around her nostrils.
“Grandma, I’m Shin-Ting, can you hear me?” I tried to speak without trembling but still it turned out to be the unsteady voice. As if trying to give respond to my calling, she slowly opened her eyes and looked at me, I was again shocked. Her eyes showed that she was indeed a sick person, because the part where supposed to be white became completely yellow with plenty of sticky things attached on the corner of her eyes. The scene made me feel even more uncomfortable.
“Shin-Ting?” suddenly, grandma open her mouth and words flew out from her dry, colorless lips. The volume of her voice was quite small, almost too small to be heard. As a result, in order to listen to her words clearly, I leaned forward that almost pressed her body. However, the next second, she grabbed me in my left arm without any reason. At that moment, I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore, out of the deep nervousness of a six-year-old child, I pulled my armed away from hers as if it was a hand of a rotten zombie or something disgusting. What came the next? I think I ran away.
From then on, even though grandma was cured and was able to live normally without any further assistance, the scene I saw that day became the shadow in my mind, which brought me the sense of insecurity. What is worse, it became a good material of my nightmares. As a grown-up now, every time when this memory came to my mind I will feel guilty because I know how cruel it was. It’s true that I shouldn’t run away at that time, it might hurt her feeling; however, it’s all too late, the damage had been done.
After stepping out of the hospital, as if there was a great wall between us, grandma refuses to talk to me and even my mother finds no way to help us rebuilt our relationship. About the age of fifteen, the most rebellious age since I was born, I even hated my grandma deeply because I thought she was totally immature, too immature to forgive a mistake of a little child. However, as time goes by, I gradually realize how an adult think because I myself is becoming an adult, too. My understanding tells me that no matter how old a person is, there will always be a little kid hidden in his soul, which makes the person sometimes emotional and unreasonable. It’s impossible to find a person who is overall mature and perfect.
My life is kind to me, but sometimes it can be very cruel, too. When I finally realize how an adult think and is ready to open up a new conversation with my grandmother, her days are numbered. At her final days, I go to the hospital as often as I can, and I witness clearly the entire process of how death extinguishes the fire of human’s vitality. Firstly, the brain cancer takes my grandma’s intelligence away that makes her unable to distinguish a pencil from a pen. Secondly, the ability for her to speak is deprived. Thirdly, her ability to see things and move are also taken, and finally, the cancer stops her heart from beating.
It is not until the day she passes away do I figure out how much I care about her. Sill I remember the time when I was a little kid, I used to stay at my grandma’s house for a short period in summer time, for my father has to prepare for his research paper without any interruption. Sometimes when my grandma and I went out together in the afternoon, I may get lost then I cried her name, every time, she would show up and “rescue” me. Now together with my parents and other relatives, we stand sorrowfully around her black coffin, which in five minutes will be closed forever.
So where are you, my dear grandmother? I’m so lost now and I can’t find a way out, will you show up to help me this time? And also, we have not chatted for a very long time, I have many interesting things to tell you. I keep asking questions in my mind when I stare at her pale face, and I firmly believe that she is listening to me. It’s not until they burned her body do I start to weep.
Now the silence between us is truly dead.
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