Monday 17th December, 8:38am
My Father just called me to tell me my Grandmother has passed away.
Is it bad that I’m not crying?
It doesn’t feel real…
Tuesday 18th December, 1.47am
I remember the second to last time I visited Cape Town. When was it? It must have been about 4 or 5 years ago now. I don’t know how old I was. I don’t remember much vividly, except for those last few minutes spent driving to the airport to the time sitting on the plane, sobbing miserably because I was afraid to leave.
We were driving to the airport at night. My grandparents were taking us in my Uncles car- I remember leather seats. Something nice. I looked out the window at the night view of Cape Town and was captivated by it. It was beautiful. It was my home. I thought about all the reasons I could not and would never live there again and felt immensely sad. At that time it hit me- would this be the last time I ever went there? I must have been doing my A levels, perhaps I was in year 13. Because i remember thinking about all the changes coming up in my life- university, followed by a job most likely, and wondering where Cape Town would fit in. When would I find the time to return home? Would my dad be able to afford to fly us back again with both of his daughters at university (and him supporting us)? If I was able to come back in 5 years, like usual, just what kind of person would I be and what sort of things would have occurred in that time? I thought that I am growing older, but that does not matter, but it matters to my family. I wondered if it would be the last time I would ever see my grandparents and so, unable to get these kinds of thoughts out of my mind I spent the whole ride quietly staring out the window, trying to imprint that view on my mind, trying so hard not to cry. We got to the airport and I hugged my grandparents fiercely. My sister did so, too, obviously, and she was crying and did not want to let go. I let go. I continued to hold back tears. I stepped on the plane and sat down in my seat, buried my head in my hands and sobbed. (No, I did not care who saw or heard or what they thought of me. I was losing something, I didn’t not know what, I still don’t know what, and it was making me feel very, very sad)
I still can’t look at cities at night without, to quote Richard siken because it is so appropriate and sums it up so perfectly, thinking that it looks so much like home, except it doesn’t. It’s not home. I missed South Africa every time i looked out the train window at passing cities, their glittering lights, so, so. so wrong. Every time i saw that view I tasted that old sadness.
But this whole situation, of being South African but not, it was after then that I realised just how much I hated it. Just how much it felt like I had lost something I never had. Just how much I missed and ached for that something I could have had- that life i could have led, that person i could have been. And just how much it hurt not to know. all of it, so stupid and so easy to pick apart, to find the flaws in the arguments, and yet.
Whenever I thought of Cape Town, I felt sad.
Then, when my dad suddenly announced that we would be going back to Cape Town a couple years back I was ecstatic. Usually we go back every four or five years and we got to back in just two? It was amazing. I was so happy. So nervous at the same time. And also, relieved. I thought, ah, everything’s OK. Everything is how it should be. Gone were my negative thoughts of never seeing my grandparents again, of only returning to Cape Town as a stranger with no place to go, to an unfamiliar city that I had no connection any more. I stopped thinking about those what ifs- I did not think at any one point that would be the last time I saw my grandparents. I thought, no, everything was OK. Everything was at it should be. As it was and how it would be forever.
A few weeks OK my Dad phoned me to tell my Grandmother was sick. They’d found a tumour in her brain and it did not look good. They did not think she would make Christmas. How are you supposed to react such news? I said “oh, that’s terrible” and I’m sure I sounded cold but I felt detached from the situation. It was happening so far away and it was thus so easy to pretend that it wasn’t. That is how I deal with all my problems- I will them away so I don’t have to deal with them. Still, that evening, I found myself start to cry, just suddenly in the middle of writing my lab report. I could not continue my report. I ate doughnuts until I felt like I was going to throw up.I hated myself for that.
From then on, I started to check my phone obsessively, waiting for news.
My dad sent my regular updates, all of them much the same. Things do not look good. The unspoken I pretended not to recognise- prepare for the worst. its inevitable, now.
My mom flew back to Cape Town on a flexible ticket, to stay for 2 months, perhaps less , perhaps more. I felt happy for her, relived to hear that. My mom deserved to be with her family. Again, the unspoken undercurrent, the thought I would not dwell on, she deserved to be with her mother when she died.
I carried on with everything like usual. Its was so much easier to deal with by not thinking of it. I thought about sending my grandmother a text, an email- but what would I say? I’d never dealt with this before.
My Grandparents have always been healthy. And when they weren’t, they were there and I was here and it was all happening so far away- and whenever I saw them they always seemed so strong. Perhaps I was again pretending not to notice them growing fragile as age began to take its grip on them. Perhaps its simply because I see them so infrequently that I could put it down to my own hazy memory. This is how they have always been, don’t you remember?
A week ago, things were getting worse.
I started sobbing uncontrollably one night, and ended up reading through Richard Sikens Crush in one sitting, curled up around the book in the dark, reading by torchlight. It was only after I read the whole book that I managed to get myself under control.
Still, by the next morning I was OK. It still wasn’t happening.
Then, this morning I woke up, feeling sick and tired from a night of being unable to sleep and a lingering remnant of a bad dream. I had 2 missed calls. Sleepily I turned on my laptop and checked my emails. There was only the one- from my dad, telling me that he and my sister have put up the Christmas tree and lights. I noticed my sister looking a bit strange in the photo, eyes red, smile a bit forced, but I put it down to too strong light from the flash of the camera. I was relieved, thinking that the trivial, happy news about the Christmas decorations was all there was.
My dad phoned again. We chatted pleasantly about this and that. I laughed. I made jokes. Talked about trivial things. Then, a pause, and my dad said “The reason I am phoning”, something along those lines. Even when delivering bad news, my father is always polite.
My Grandmother is dead.
“Seriously?” I said and hated myself a little.
Then, again “oh”
My dad sounded concerned when he hung up. He knows me well.
I didn’t cry. I went to my morning lecture, sat and zoned out like always. I went to my next lecture but by this point I was tired and my thought were too demanding. I felt like doing something so I went back to my room and worked on my lab report. I still did not cry. I went to my afternoon tutorial next. It was very boring. I spent it juggling between reading and copying the answers down. I was samping a book and was pleased to find it was good. After lectures I went to the computer room to print out some work. I bumped into an acquaintance and he asked me questions and I answered in monosyllables. Afterwards, my brain supplied the better, polite answers. But I was tired. I thought to myself that I would simply not have the energy to speak those words out loud even if I had thought them at a better time. I printed out the stuff and was annoyed to find they had printed wrong, but it seemed too much effort to print them again so I just shoved it in my bag to be dealt with later, and then I went back to my room and did some work on my other lab work. Then, I rushed out and went grocery shopping. I stopped at Secret Recipe (a western cafe/restaurant here) before going to Tesco. I had Graptetizer and Arrabiata pasta. It was delicious and even if I wasn’t hungry, I ate it all and enjoyed it. I smiled a little when I saw the graptetizer was made in South Africa. I walked across the parking lot to Tesco, once again marvelling at how I live here. Here, in Malaysia. I headed up to Tesco feeling pleasantly full and quite light hearted. I put together food for Christmas- I was looking forward to cooking again, even if it was in a student kitchen with limited appliances. I picked out a pot and bought a sharp knife to cut up vegetables, I allowed myself a big bar of chocolate (the biggest I could find) and a jumbo can of pringles as a christmas treat. I came back and unloaded everything. I bumped into my friend and we tried a Chinese desert she had bought, that turned out to be plain silken tofu and neither of us liked it very much. She gave me a mangosteen. I sat and watched kpop videos as I happily ate some fresh fruit (but not the mangosteen. that was slimy and strange) I did a bit more work on my lab work. Then I took a shower and now, here I am, writing this…
It was an ordinary day. so ordinary.
How does one grieve? I feel like I’m doing it wrong somehow. Everyone in dramas is always weeping. I cried a little writing this but that is the only amount I have cried today. Am I doing it wrong? Even if they do not weep they show some kind of emotion. Do I dishonour the dead by being so cold and detached? I don’t know, I’ve never dealt with this. I’ve never lost anyone…
It just doesn’t feel real. and I don’t want it to.
Tuesday 18th December, 2.55am
I hesitated posting this. Then I realized I have posted things just as grim and personal before on this blog, so why not. I am sorry for lack of updates here. University is manic and now this… I will try and get the Korea posts done, because I really want to get those done, and hopefully in the new year I will be able to put more effort into this place.
Now, I should really get to bed and try and get some sleep. I actually have a test tomorrow afternoon…