Its a date.

which I will never forget.

Its the day when I received a call from my sister informing me, grandpa has passed away. gone 3.45p.m.

heartbroken, my eyes started to get wet,, so easily. so easy. drops after drops. I did not go back to visit him when he was still half-alive I presumed. from all the descriptions my mum told me through the phone, I assumed his condition was like...the patients I used to see in icu.....

Couldn't think of what should I do, how to react to this news.

I called H and informed him about this news. I broke off in the lift while holding onto my rice box. Couldn't stop tearing...

And so, I reached home. the moment I saw his picture framed and boldered with flowers, I cried again. Mum brought me into the cold room and i saw my grandpa. he used to be bigger than he was. he used to be a strong man.

but he was different. he was tiny.

* * *

The moment my father, my uncles, my brothers and cousins moved him into the coffin. Something struck my eyes. I saw my grandma, crying. my heart was tearing. 

I hate funerals. its my first in the family and I already hated it so much.

It has been 6 days since then.

I must say, life is short. Treasure them well. I believe my grandpa will be better elsewhere C:

I will never forget the bright and cheerful smile he had with those pretty and smart teeth. Also, the way he hold the only gun he had. and also, the moment he tell story about how pretty my grandma was during the younger days and that he married her. 


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