Grandfather Stories

I am mentally unprepared to deal with all of these. All I have now is sadness beneath this phony facade. I might as well come out right now to say I am so sentimental my soul is a hundred years old. Truth is, I don't take to departures so well yet I have recently shared and even written about it boldly.

I'd like to share a little nugget that makes me smile in reminiscence. Do you know who's the funny one in my extended family? Not that cousin who went to drama classes or the auntie with hilarious story-telling talent. It was my very dear Grand dad. He was a jolly character, the real funny one, before Dementia stole his dear humour and slowly controlled his soul. Though slight in build with thin limbs, he was big on humour. What I fondly remembered most about him pre-Dementia was his rambunctious laughter. I am beginning to miss that. I was planning to introduce my partner to him this CNY.

My last moment with him was never had. Except this morning's tale which I leaked online through a tweet status.

I had interrupted sleep when a thin palm stroked the back of my head during the hour before day breaks. In my semi slumber, I considered jumping out of bed. Oddly, there was no fear whatsoever in my heart. "Not possible", I thought. Yet, I felt unusually comforted. So, I prayed for it to stop and fell back asleep when it did. In the morning when the last alarm went off, I decided I had a peculiar dream. Of course, I still felt uneasy but there were more pressing things on my mind.

Could that guardian angel be my Grand dad?

::

The only way I know to work through my emotions was to pack. I would pack anything in my sight and only care to rest upon complete exhaustion.

It's my therapy.

Now you know.