What I'm sad about

It has been quite a long time since I last saw him. A lot had happened to him. All the hard times that he went through and going through, I could not help but to pay respect to him for his endurance. As he is struggling through the hardest time for him, I pray that our almighty God will continue to heal him.

As I reached grandmother's house, I was, as usual, surrounded by kids. The children circled around me, calling my name, some wanted me to carry them. Some pulled my fingers, could not wait to show me something new. I felt like a superstar surrounded by fans at that particular short moment. But this joyful instant just faded away. I knew what I wanted to do at there.

After I had my dinner, I asked my cousin to follow me into his room. I opened the door slowly, trying hard not to make extra noises that might interrupt him. Now the door is opened, and I saw an old person lying on a hospital bed, with eyes closed. I looked around. This room, which last time was his personal room, was a bit different. There were no those half-faded stuffs that belong to him. Now it looked more like a hospital room - the medical gadgets, tubes connected to a sucking machine to suck out the unwanted stuffs in his body, some clothes, a maid and her bed.

I stood there for some time. Stunned, or maybe recalling all the good old days that we had with each other. It took me some times to come back to the reality - the sad one. I moved closer to him.

In heart hoping that miracles would happen, I greeted him softly, "Grandpa, I'm back from Germany. How are you?"

Bloods were running into my brain. I wished so hard that he would open his mouth and talk to me. I waited with much anticipation. I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Nothing happened. I turned around and looked at my cousin. He gave me a lifting-shoulder gesture, which means "oh well" to me. I turned back to look at my grandfather. I monitored him slowly, as the acids soured my heart. Finally, with sour heart, I stepped out the room.

After that I was outside at the living room, talking to relatives - about Germany, studies, relationship with Germans, people, God... Then my 6th Aunty, Aunt Jane called me, telling me that Grandpa woke up. I sprung up from the comfort couch I went into the room again.

This time he was there, with one eye opened while the other closed. Aunt Jane was standing beside his bed. I walked to stand beside her, and my cousin stood at the other side of mine. Aunt Jane then talked to Grandpa about me..

"Father, Qi Hao came back from Germany. He is here, paying you visit. Can you hear me?"

No respond.

"Father, you know this is Qi Hao or not? Still remember him?"

No respond.

The unclosed door now filled with the kids, who followed me without my own notice. They shouted together, "Grandpa, faster wake up!" I gave myself a weak smile. I like being kids; often they just think of what they want and what they wish, without being invaded by the cruel reality. I looked at their joyful faces. How little they have learned about the reality. The innocent heart, they have. Their harmonic voices were the battle-cry in my heart - it boosted my moral.

Aunt Jane then ask me, "why are you so quiet? Why don't you talk to him?"

I stunned. Slowly, I moved closer, and asked the same question, "Grandpa, how are you?"

This time, he turned around and looked at me. It was a miracle to me. Honestly, I was touched. His opened eye was looking straight at me. For some instant my mind told me he was not looking at me, "he is NOT looking at me", but the ceiling behind me. But I told myself, "whatever, he is NOW looking at me."

My heart was lifted high. He starred at me for quite some time. I returned by looking back into his weak eye, digging around every corner in the eye, searching for a word called "miracle". For quite a time when I thought I found the alphabets...

m-

i-

R-

A-

C-

L-

.
..
...

No, the "E" was lost. I could not believe at first. My sight wandered around his eyeball, looking for that little E - Energy, extraordinary, or every other words you could name. The E that might escape from my sight.

No, I forced myself to convince my stubborn brain. No. No. No.

The moment of despair, sadness. I don't know. I felt pain to see people who are close to me suffer. But what can I do other than believe in God and pray to him? I don't know. Seeing him lying on the bed, my heart bleeds. Seeing him motionless, I felt stoned. I was real sad. What disturbed me most was that his head skull which suppose to protect the brain was removed due to severe damage and fracture. I was thinking, what on earth that attackers were thinking? Sad.

**

Yesterday I was taking Keretapi Tanah Melayu (KTM) back from Midvalley to my aunt's place. My camera was nearly picked by a Malay. I didn't turn around and look at him, but I was definitely sure he is a Malay. My sister said should've wreck him. But it led me to a thought: To everyone, what is stealing is about?

Is it merely a law to scare people not to steal? Or it is a negative moral value? I wonder what those theives are thinking. I didn't turn around to scold him. I didn't want to shame him in front of the public. I didn't want him to repeat his act. I just hope he could understand.

Sigh, the mentality of people in western and eastern are different. Sad.



Vincent