How do we get beyond death?
That is such a sophisticated question, and it took me almost two decades to figure out what I did when being in the face of the death.
I have been avoiding death and anything related to it; even my love
has been keeping me away from the sight of death or scene of rot and decay.
The answer to this question varies from one viewpoint to another.
For me, it took me 18 years to visit my Grandpa after his funeral.
I thought I would collapse, but I merely let tears streaming down my cheek.
The moment his picture on the urn reflected into my eyes,
my sight was blurred owing to the peaceful smile of his.
It’s the thought that the suffering of my beloved grandpa, from endless, bone-etching pain, numerous tubes and unknown devices and equipment attached to his body, and the loss of future sight of my beloved grandpa that would make the living, me, sorrowful.
Somehow I forgot that Grandpa has always been there for me:
in my dream, in my memory, for better or worse, for bitter or sweet⋯
he was there; he has been there, and he is still there in my heart.
Even if my eyes swell with tears, that is the tears of reminiscence and serenity aroused by pleasant memory that he gave me.
I bade Grandpa farewell and finally moved on.
I wish you carry on and be strong, cheri!