At least this round the burden was shared by popo’s daughters as opposed to only me and mom for my brother’s funeral.

First stop was the doctor’s to get him to come round to the house to certify the death. Next, came the police station to report the death. Finally was the temple to arrange the monks to come for prayers.

The irony was the same day popo passed away happened to be the 100th day passing of Brickfield’s Reverend Sri Dhamanada (gosh I hope I got the spelling right ) so the monk could only come the next day.

By the time we got back the canopy was already laid out and they’ve already prepped popo to be laid into the coffin…

Thankfully this round there’s someone from the parlour taking care of the night shift so it’s not so tiring for me (it’s by default I’ll take the graveyard shift as I’m the youngest and able to refrain from sleep compared to my elders).

A lot of people came to the service but mostly consisted of family and close friends. The rest (and bulk) of it were Aunt Mary’s business partners.

By the second day, the wreaths were really taking so much space in our already confined driveway but I’ve never seen so much roses in my life.

Cousin Andrew wanted to fly back from UK to attend the service but we told him not to worry and just complete his studies and come back in Feb instead. So he sent a wreath instead (it’s the thought that counts).

Complicated wasn’t even bothered to send one or make it to the service. I don’t know whether the thought crossed his mind to send one over instead as he couldn’t make it as he was in the midst of a launch for a new model.

Whatever la. Later.

It happened to me before and you’d think I’d learn from it but I guess sometimes we really don’t learn from our mistakes because we keep thinking it won’t happen to us.

It all started on 24th Nov 06. Aunt Jenny (3rd aunt) called me to inform me that they’ve admitted my grandma to Assunta Hospital for check-ups as the Universiti Hospital docs could not find anything wrong with her so maybe we just needed a change in opinion.

Aunt Irene (youngest) will be staying with grandma for that night and Aunt Jen wanted to know if I can do Sat nite. I told her it’s ok by me but I don’t know what time I’ll finish of work on Sat as I’ve loads of paperwork to catch up with (no thanks to my trip to Pattaya and training). She started commenting that couldn’t I finish my work on Mon? Well, duh if I could finish my work on Mon who in their bleeding, demented mind would wanna stay back on a Sat/Sun (except for those with totally no life???).

I got very upset and actually commented to my maid that “Come on, grandma’s already 83 years old. How long more do you expect her to live?”. A sentence I will later come to regret til this very day.

I ended up arriving at the hospital at 9.00 p.m. (Hanyie dropped me off as I didn’t want to park my car there). I went to the hospital expecting to get some sleep as I slept quite late the night before knowing that I’ve gotta spend my Sat nite with my grandma.

Grandma normally sleeps through the night at home, so I pretty much expected her to do the same in the hospital too. Aunt Irene didn’t say anything when she called me earlier so I imagined all to be well.

Not so, during the whole course of the night (I think it started around 11/12), grandma kept waking me up at least 3 times, every hour. It wasn’t like she called me or anything. More like she started shouting for my maid to take in the clothes or something like that. It really freaked me out as she was talking to her right (when I’m located at her left) when there’s no one there.

The best part was when she turned to me and said,

Po: Esther, I hear you have a lot of guys interested in you ah?
me: ???
Po: Good la. Find a good man and quickly get married!!!
me: ?!?!?!?!

At that I told her to go to sleep. It’s bleeding 3 a.m. in the morning and other occupants wanted to sleep (it was a 4B room). No such luck. I manage to keep her quiet for a few minutes (half hour tops) before she started rambling/shouting/scolding again.

This went on for the whole night and I didn’t get enough sleep and still had to go to the office later in the day. When the nurses came in around 6 a.m. my grandma started scolding them and saying that we’re trying to kill her (she was on no food/drinks observation). She even starting to moan loudly and nothing I did would stop her. No scolding, no soothing words. I really pity the other patients…

In the end, I requested the nurses to change her room (to another which had 2 comatosed patients) so she’ll not be able to bother the others.

I called my aunts and told them to come quick as I need to go back to get some sleep. In the end, they called mother instead. I got Hanyie to come pick me up and later went home for a nap. I ended up waking at 3 p.m. instead of 2 cos I was just too tired.

Rushed to do my banking (month end), went to office to do my work until around 8 p.m. system prompt me to log out. I picked up Hanyie to go for some dinner but stopped off at the hospital to see my grandma first.

It was the last time I ever saw my granny alive…

Monday and Tuesday flew by and I couldn’t find the time to visit her at the hospital as I stayed at work til 11p.m. and 12a.m. for those two days. How I wished I tried to find the time now…

Yes, I agree. But for me, the idea of reading a book is to really let the writer engulf you in their world. Back when I was younger (which resulted in me wearing glasses at the age of seven), I’d read storybooks like Enid Blyton and all those seedy fairytales that if you come to think of it, ain’t really gonna happen in real life mate…

Moving on, in my teens I indulged in SVH, SVU, Fear Street, Danielle Steel and yada, yada, yada.

But, of late I’ve begun to tire of seemingly romantic novels that has a happy ending (probably because my life lacks that fairytale ending I always read about, so why put myself to further torture?).

Bout few years back (I dunno, 2 maybe 3?), I started reading more indepth books like biography and stuff. I really can’t remember the book I started off with but it was recommended by the owner of the rental shop (yeah I rent my books, pointly in buying if I just take a few days to finish it and after a few years I could still more or less remember the contents). She was really good in recommending books cos when I told her I didn’t want any romance sap she gave me something deeper, filled with laughter, tears and the occasional romance that doesn’t necessarily end in a happy ending. When she left her shop to the care of helpers I too moved on as they do not have the means to recommend me books to read.

Then I found a shop in Subang Parade called Reader’s Corner or something. The person that runs the place is also quite good in recommending books.

But out of all I’d have to say the BEST book I’ve been recommended has to be by Maran who gave me a few book names and author to look up. I managed to find two he recommended, both by Mitch Albom.

One called “Tuesdays with Morrie” and “Five People You Meet in Heaven”. I started with the latter as the first book was all out. I’ll blog about the book soon. Till then. Cheers.