Lack of Grief

Earlier this week, I had to deal with a death in the family… my aunt (my dad’s younger sister) passed away. She’s been sick for quite a while, so her passing wasn’t a surprised at all. I did get a chance to visit her in the hospital a few days before it happened, and it didn’t look good. I won’t go into the details out of respect for the family.

What I am going to talk about is how I feel about death… here it is… I feel nothing. I do admit that it’s sort of weird… ok, it’s more than weird… I noticed this many years ago. Whenever there was a death in the family, I didn’t feel the usual grief. At that time, my uncle (my dad’s elder brother) passed away.

It wasn’t like I didn’t care about him or he didn’t care about me. In fact, he was quite nice to me. I remember the first time my parents went for their Hajj. He was the first of my relatives to call and check up on me to make sure I was doing ok, since it was the first time I was going to be home alone for an extended amount of time.

But losing a caring uncle didn’t do anything to me… I thought back about when I lost my maternal grandfather, and then my paternal grandmother… again, nothing… since then, there have been a few more deaths in the family, without any emotional effect on me.

This makes it impossible for me to relate to a friend who has suffered a lost… when one tells me that they have lost a loved one, I take a lot of time trying to figure out the right words to console them, since I have never had the need for such words.

I know it’s weird… most people would agree it’s weird… well, only one person doesn’t think it’s weird… one of my friends say that it’s a good thing… that I accept death as part of life… that death is expected. I sort of agree with that…. But I would like to add the fact that, yes, death is expected… so you make the most of the time you have with those you love and care for.

To tell you the truth, this time around, things were a bit different. I’m not saying I’m totally cured of my insensitivity… but my aunt’s passing got me thinking.

You see, my aunt was a very nice person… in fact, I can’t think of a single incident in my whole entire life when she was not a nice, polite and caring person… I used to spend quite a lot of time at her house when I was younger, so I would say that I had a front row seat. Her kids all loved her, and spent a lot of time with her, even though they all have their own families now. They were all calm when she passed… I’m guessing it’s because they have no regrets about their relationship with their mother.

So back to what I was thinking… have I made sure that I won’t have any regrets when a loved one passes?

As I’ve written before in a previous post, I’m not exactly the poster boy for the concept of “a good son”… but I’m not just talking about my parents. This is about every relationship you have in your life… your immediate family and beyond…

Could I safely say that I can maintain this indifference towards death in the future? I doubt I can… to not feel grief would be a possibility… but to not feel remorse, now that’s going to be a challenge…

I'm not going to commit to a plan or anything... it's just something that needs to be pondered... and when the time comes, I hope I can do something about it...

Dad

I wrote this in January 2007...

Lost my dad at a very early age. I was 24.
No fair, I thought.
Left with my mum and a brother who was only 12. The world turned dark. Who’s going to take care of us? Mum’s not independent, she depends on me. Who do I turn to?
Will my brother remember my dad?
When other people who are a lot older than me were still fooling around without a care in the world, I had to sort out things with the lawyer, banks, house and car mortgages, land office, inheritance arrangements etc. I mean, not many 24 year olds you know have to deal with all that. I wasn’t even working yet. Who’s going to tell me if I was wrong, to seek advice from or to just help me understand. No man in the family.
It would be fair, at least, if I was working, or married, or have an elder brother. But no, it was just me.
No fair.
Someone complained of having to deal with her dad not being understanding of her relationship with her boyfriend that she wants to marry. My dad won’t be around when I get married.
Or see my children.
No fair.
My friend’s dad still has his mother with him. My 50 year old uncles and aunties still have both my grandparents and complain about giving grandpa a bath.
I had to pour rose water over dad’s grave.
No fair.
A friend complained about having to pick up her dad from the workshop. I had to go pick up dad’s tombstone.
Heart broken. Soul, spirit, confidence, belief, strength, faith, life, all broken.
No fair.
But,
When you lose that someone that you have depended on for so long, it automatically entails growing up. Mum, through her tears and fears, said life has to go on. True.
Somebody else said, “kita semua dipinjamkan saja ke dunia ni, sampai masa kembali ke asalnya”.
God entrusted to us the people we love to care and appreciate, and to learn from.
Now that I’ve learned to make peace with it, I’ve realized that it is fair.
He gave me 24 years to be with dad.
He was there when I was born, when I learned how to spell, and drew my first picture on the kitchen table, on my first day of school, when I got my first tooth extracted, when I fell down and hurt my knee, take me to the library every week, attend my prize giving ceremony and my graduation, bought me my first car.
Someone else probably didn’t even know their dad.
It is fair.
Dad was very strict and very much feared especially when it comes to my studies, he would throw my report card on the floor when my grades were bad. He forced me to learn the equation with a long wooden ruler until I got all of it right. I cried and was extremely mad at him for being so garang. He made me read the New Straits Times, National Geographics, the Britannica Encyclopedia, Inside the Human Body and even Newsweek in Primary School. No Malay comic magazines like what my other friends in school read. He didn’t even like it when I spend time drawing. His way might be the very rigid and regimented ‘old-school style’. Would definitely incur obvious displeasure and smirks from people of this generation. Nevertheless, if I could turn back time, I wouln’t have it any other way.
His way made me a stronger person.
It is fair.
I got to be with dad during his final moments. I was at his bedside. Someone else probably didn’t even get to say goodbye.
I got to tell him how much I love him. I got to thank him for all he’s done for me, mum and brother. We all got to tell him that.
It is fair.
Even when he was sick, I got the chance to take care of him. Stopped school, fed him food, tried to understand what he was saying, word by word, clipped his nails, shaved his beard, helped him shower, drive him places, accompanied him to the hospital, helped with physiotherapy and speech therapy etc. All these brought me and dad closer than ever before. We learned to love each other more.
Sometimes I want to call dad, but I know that he won’t be there. I want to look into his eyes, and see him looking back. I know that I’ll never get to do that, but at least I remember how his eyes looked like.
I think of dad more now, I have forgiven his mistakes, appreciate him more.
I had a dad. I still have him with me. In my heart.
It is fair.