Maybe this is not a really cheerful post, as this post reflect what I felt. But I got many lesson for this session. This post will talk a lot about death and graveyard, so if you don’t feel like it, please skip and don’t read it. But if you still want to continue, well then, let’s move on.
Not even a month after my grandmother’s relatives from my dad’s bloodline is deceased, now my grandfather’s relatives from my mother’s bloodline is following at May 10, 2011, at age 85. Unlike the previous funeral, this time, my family had to take care of the funeral problem because she is not married, she was living in my home, and she’s actually my late grandfather’s little sister, the last surviving member of the “Tan” siblings. My sister was the one who very close to her. I said “was”, because she’s now living in foreign country. I’m not that close to her, but I do have some random talking with her, and even buy her some of her favorite breads.
It’s at 8 o’clock in the night that my mom was going to change her diaper. She’s usually change her diaper at 10, but today she suddenly changed it at 8. And suddenly I heard an unusual exclamation tone, “Honeyyyyy! Grandma Tate is gone!” Tate is our nickname for her. For the sake of simpleness, let’s call her that from now on. It’s very weird, because my housekeeping was feed her at 6, and she’s still fine. But I guess that’s the best for her. She’s been tortured long enough in her condition. Now she’s in better place.