R.I.P. Grandma

The funeral was last week Wednesday. Well, the ceremony was. The burial was on Thursday. I never forgave my parents for not telling me that my grandfather had passed away when I was in school. They considered school to be more important but I hated them for it.

She didn't leave this Earth in peace though. I know that. She attempted to kill herself a few times in the hospital. She was also living with my aunt who hated her company. She moved back voluntarily to help pay her (my aunt) bills during her messy divorce. Not to mention my uncle (not the previous wife's husband) was spending all his time taking away her life savings before she passes away. He took her money to bail out his son.

I'm honestly a bit tired of going through this drama repeatedly in my head. I wish it was easier than this. I can remember a time when family was simple. That was before I landed in Canada. My concept of family only consisted of my mother, father, and brother.

After we emigrated from England ... my parents were too busy and my grandmother took care of me a lot. Sadly, I could never truly communicate with her. I tried my best but my Cantonese or Vietnamese was almost non-existent. I still loved my grandmother. No matter how broken my Cantonese may have seemed. She still took care of us. Cooked for us. Looked after us. She even took care of the next wave of children who came by.

As a secular humanist, I don't believe in an afterlife. I also don't believe that she's looking out for me somewhere. But I would hope to live my life in a way that would make her proud. Which means, I'm going to have to be a better son to my mother. And a better family member to look out for the rest of those kids.