how do i deal

the funeral procession's over and we are all over.

its a strange kind of comfort that ive been seeking, the kind that makes me feel that im all normal and that im fine, nothing is all that wrong with me and everything is just a passing phase. which of course, only the passing phase part is sadly right.
i dont know what to make of the fact that i hardly teared at the wake with the demise of my own grandmother. i felt such grief and yet i did not have the ability to express it. i was lost in my own thoughts most of the time, either that or i was too busy conversing and catching up with my cousins. it hurts me to know that i couldnt even shed a tear for my own grandma when i could easily shed gallons of such for other people. im not a good person. but my grief cannot be measured with such because it just cant. and i feel slightly better thinking of that.

everyone's gone now and so are the memories.

childhood memories of visiting my grandparents at the rural house of theirs remains and yet seem to be fading. i could never find such heaven again. the simplicity of being in a familiar place surrounded with people and much joy. the bliss of knowing that you may have a second serving of peanuts cracker without scoldings, the down to earth games that we used to play, running around bare-footed, getting it down and dirty, swinging from trees to trees across the little stream playing tarzan. cousins who were both playmates and comrades. it's not gonna happen no more. it stopped right after the move. gradually and suddenly. like how people got bankrupt or mad or insane or depressed. gradually and suddenly.

good things just don't last and you would better believe in it.

i've never been close to my grandma. never. i used to like my grandfather more than my grandma just because my grandfather showed that he loved me and my brother more than anyone else. even if he was bedridden for years after a boy ran him down with a bicycle. even if he was bedridden, i loved to see how his face would lit up when i bought him his favorite durian flavored popsicle and how every chinese new year, he would beckon me to go near him as he laid in his bed, sneaking a red packet worth of 20 sweet love bucks into my hand and whispering into my ear in a language that i cld never be comfortable with, telling me not to let the other kids know that he gave me a hong bao. he had the most genuine and generous smile ive ever seen. he was never stingy with smiles. hes generous with smiles. and im sad now as i think about him. its ironic how im missing him after all these years.

my mother is an orphan now. and im sad for her.