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Uhmmm. This isn't fiction... but I'll post it here anyway sweatdrop
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I remember that day clearly, that long, hot summer day when my grandfather had departed from this world. Even now, it stands out in my mind from all the experiences I had collected through my life.
His death had been caused by kidney failure, and as far as I could remember, he had been taking dialysis for about six months. There was no way out of that sickness. Dialysis was the only thing that could keep a person alive, though they would still be in pain. My grandfather’s stubbornness made him refuse to go to his appointment with the doctor, and then the next morning, I heard that he had passed away while in his sleep.
Under the burning sun, everyone walked at the same pace. What had seemed like an unending line to me guided us through the streets. We were walking towards the cemetery. As I looked around, I realized many people had come. After all, my grandfather was popular with many. His work in helping different people organize and prepare parties had helped introduce him to many people. Besides his customers, he had a big family: his own siblings, cousins, eight kids, who were now parents, and several grandchildren.
I walked alongside my cousin who seemed like the only person I knew well in that part of the line. It was tough to even make an effort of smiling on a day like this. Everyone had on a pitiful face, and if not that, then a depressing one. There had never been a time in my life when I had to deal with someone blood-related to me dying. I thought I had controlled my crying well that day, but as it turned out, I was wrong.
When we had reached the enormous, white cemetery, all of us kneeled down. I wasn’t prepared to hear about all the good things my grandfather had done in his life. In fact, I felt horrible about it. I remembered my opinions of him, all the negative ones. I had always thought he wasn’t one of those important people in my life.
I wept so much that day, more than I ever had in the past. It was too cruel to see that they had burned his body and turned it into mere ashes. I didn’t dare look at it because I knew it would only make me cry even more. I just stood and waited outside the room, hoping for the time to pass by quickly. I could still hear the voices of the people moaning in awe inside that deadly room. It was the last time I ever saw the face of my grandfather.
The thought of my grandfather suddenly going away left a feeling of disgust within myself. Why hadn’t I been considerate of the fact that he’s been working so hard even though he was sick? I had heard before that I was one of his favorite granddaughters, but I didn’t care. I just continued on with my life without giving a thought about it, as if nobody had ever mentioned it. I never knew until then that his death would make such a big impact on me.
I had never liked it when my mom bothered me all the time, asking me to visit my grandfather. I thought, what was the point of visiting a very sick person? They could just spend their time resting instead of seeing someone like me. It would be a waste of time for them and for me. However, I immediately thought about all the money he had given me during the holidays. So maybe I should actually go see and thank him for that reason, but for that reason alone. I always ended up having to fake out a smile.
Everything is different for me now though. I don’t feel the same as I had used to. I wish now I could have one last chance to see my grandfather, this time with a real smile that would characterize my appreciation for his existence, to let him see that I care, but it’s not possible. What was done had already been done. It had been too late when I realized I had been such a selfish and spoiled granddaughter. I decided to change then, but what was I thinking? Changing myself for the person when he’s no longer there…
I wept some more over the thought that I would never see him in person again. If only I had given a thought to understand how being really sick is like… if only I had shared a thought about being a great granddaughter for once… if only… I had understood, or even tried to understand, that same pain my grandfather had gone through. Seeing someone important to me suffer like this just wasn’t right. I wanted to help because I knew that I was about to lose someone precious to me. But in the end, I was unable to do anything except cry in regret on the freezing marbled floor that hot, summer day.
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So... Comments?
To tell the truth, I wrote this for a school project, lol. Anyways, I wanna hear what you guys think about it.
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