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When I recently moved into my new apartment, my parents drove up to help with the family car. And of course, they brought a lot of food with them, even though I always insist that they don't have stock my refrigerator for me. Since my grandparents live between here and home, trips back and forth are usually punctuated by a visit to their house. I didn't see my grandparents myself this time--my parents were the ones who went from socal to norcal and back, while I stayed in Berkeley--but part of the food I received was a grocery bag filled with several packs of instant ramen, which my grandmother apparently gave to my parents to give to me.
My grandmother passed away yesterday. According to my relatives who live closer to them and make more frequent visits, she sat down in a chair and dozed off, and when my grandfather went to wake her up, well--she didn't. She was 88.
It feels very weird to be writing about this right now, since my last entry from about a month ago was also about death, albeit that of an old family pet rather than a relative. I recall what I said--wondering how I'd feel about the death of a close relative--and I feel pretty rotten, like I might have jinxed it. Unfortunately, my grandmother was not a very close relative, and I am again stuck in that sort of half-mourning, where I'm not exactly suffering from grief like I think I should be, and the awkwardness of the situation probably overshadows the actual sadness. It's almost like I'm still in shock from the whole thing, except I suspect that, a week or two down the line, it's not going to suddenly hit me with full force.
I wish I could say that I had a stronger relationship with my grandparents, but when you only see them two or three times a year and usually for only a few hours at most each time, how much of a bond can you build? Especially when considering the cultural gap that exists between me, born and raised in southern California, and them, a couple from Taiwan who only came over to America when they already had five fully-grown children.
Worse still, I feel like a huge bastard because I was planning to fly back home to attend Anime Expo in a few days with high school friends, something I haven't done in years, and now I probably won't be able to, as my parents want to drive up as soon as possible, and figure out funeral arrangements, and all that jazz--and I'm just sitting here thinking about what a coincidence it is that a death in the family would occur at the one time in the one summer where I can finally start doing this yearly tradition with friends again.
It's all got me a bit dazed. I'm not really sure what's going to happen now, particularly with my grandfather, since he and my grandmother were living alone in a house. It probably won't be possible or even desirable to have him living by himself, especially after what just happened. And when I look at that half-empty (or is it half-full?) grocery bag of instant ramen in the kitchen, my mind just starts to wander again.
My grandmother passed away yesterday. According to my relatives who live closer to them and make more frequent visits, she sat down in a chair and dozed off, and when my grandfather went to wake her up, well--she didn't. She was 88.
It feels very weird to be writing about this right now, since my last entry from about a month ago was also about death, albeit that of an old family pet rather than a relative. I recall what I said--wondering how I'd feel about the death of a close relative--and I feel pretty rotten, like I might have jinxed it. Unfortunately, my grandmother was not a very close relative, and I am again stuck in that sort of half-mourning, where I'm not exactly suffering from grief like I think I should be, and the awkwardness of the situation probably overshadows the actual sadness. It's almost like I'm still in shock from the whole thing, except I suspect that, a week or two down the line, it's not going to suddenly hit me with full force.
I wish I could say that I had a stronger relationship with my grandparents, but when you only see them two or three times a year and usually for only a few hours at most each time, how much of a bond can you build? Especially when considering the cultural gap that exists between me, born and raised in southern California, and them, a couple from Taiwan who only came over to America when they already had five fully-grown children.
Worse still, I feel like a huge bastard because I was planning to fly back home to attend Anime Expo in a few days with high school friends, something I haven't done in years, and now I probably won't be able to, as my parents want to drive up as soon as possible, and figure out funeral arrangements, and all that jazz--and I'm just sitting here thinking about what a coincidence it is that a death in the family would occur at the one time in the one summer where I can finally start doing this yearly tradition with friends again.
It's all got me a bit dazed. I'm not really sure what's going to happen now, particularly with my grandfather, since he and my grandmother were living alone in a house. It probably won't be possible or even desirable to have him living by himself, especially after what just happened. And when I look at that half-empty (or is it half-full?) grocery bag of instant ramen in the kitchen, my mind just starts to wander again.