Sunday

My Sundays are officially booked.

My grandaunt, who had a stroke when I was 9, is dying soon.
Her health deteriorated 6 months back, and the rate of deterioration increased after CNY.

Besides Janice, I've not said a word to anyone.
Cos it's not sympathy I'm looking for.
It's not empathy I want either.
It's just a whole load of emotions welling up inside that I need to release.
So until I tell it to you personally,
Just pretend you know nothing.

I went to visit her today, and so many words she said broke my heart.
I kept crying, somehow tears just wouldn't stop.

I guess I really can't handle the thought of death well.
My grandaunt seems so calm, while I have to get away so she doesn't see my horrible crying face.

But it seems that this time I matured a little.
I no longer think that people don't mean anything to me.
I guess the after effects of my grandmother's death left a scar in me.
Even now, I still can't forgive myself for not giving a hoot about her even though I knew it'd be the last time I'd see her alive.

It's been a year, slightly more than that.

Still, it hurts.
It hurts so bad.
So many people have told me to forgive myself and move on,
yet I don't know if I can do it.
If I'm even allowed to.

What's done cannot be undone.
She's gone.
Gone for a year.
No matter how many times I cry and say sorry won't bring her back.
It won't ever give me a chance to make amends.

And reality hits me really hard.
I will never be able to redeem myself for what I did to my grandmother. 

So this time, I don't wanna repeat the same mistake.
Not again.
Maybe I'm just trying to make up for not visiting her for the past 10+ years, 'cept for CNY.
But these few weeks will never make up for those years that were lost.

Maybe it's still too late.
Maybe I'm just desperately trying to redeem myself.
Convince myself that I'm not that inhuman.
Maybe I'm doing it for selfish reasons.

But seeing her face today,
it made me feel like all my selfishness didn't matter to her.
She was happy to see me.
And it hurts.
When all I'm doing is cover all my ugliness with attempts of filial piety.
I'm such a wretch aren't I?

All these years I never cared.
And when I do, it's too late.
I can never make up for all the lost time.
I can only spend what's remaining of her time with her,
and try and make it a memorable time for her.

I saw her looking at me so intently so very often,
like she was trying to burn the image of me into her.
Like she was trying to take this image of me with her into her grave.

I can't help but remember all those years on CNY,
I'd always push her out on the wheelchair to the veranda.
It'd always been my job the past few years,
and to think that the year that I was late and never managed to do it,
would be the last year I'd ever see her.
Someone must be playing a horrible joke on me.

Must Fate always be this cruel?

I remember how every year, she used to buy a handmade pot of flowers for me.
And give it to me on CNY.
Every year without fail.
They've all been thrown away,
and somehow I wish that I'd kept one of it.
Just one will do.

She loves flowers, that's what she said today.
Maybe that's why she always bought me those flowers.
And now it's my turn.
To hand-make them, and give it to her.

Looking at my past photos, I ask myself, "How did I become like this?"

I had to walk away and cry. That sentence hurts, doesn't it?

It made me wonder too.
Why in the world did I not treasure her back then?
Instead, I found her a nuisance,
having a stroke and being so immobile...
That was how selfish I was back then.
Horrible, aren't I?

Regretting my actions now is a little too late.
We can't rewind time,
we can't make amends.
Self-reflection comes a step too late.
Always, for me.

There's no longer any point in questioning 'why?'
Cos the answer is found within us,
in the depth of our conscience.

Maybe everything boils down to the selfish part of human nature,
only regretting when it's too late,
too irreversible to make amends.
And the only we can do is look towards to the future, to the end,
telling ourselves that we did our best,
we did all that we could,
trying to erase the past in which we didn't bother to care,
trying to somehow lessen the guilt in our conscience.

Maybe.
Maybe that's what I'm trying to do now.
Make amends for a past I desperately try to change,
so that somehow the guilt in my heart lessens.
So that I find a way to convince myself that I did something good.
When probably, I'm just trying to find a way to cover my selfishness,
to hide my ugliness.

Maybe.
Still, I want to spend time with her every Sunday.
To make up for lost time,
and also, in a very illogical way, make amends to a person already long gone.