The Passage of Time
Figuring out what tense to use when talking about my grandma is always hard for me. The rules of time dictate I refer to her in the past tense. It's been more than a year and I still feel forced to accept her passing. I know she's in a better place now. I know her last few years were hard, and her final moments even harder. I selfishly refuse to acknowledge she's not in Taiwan anymore for me to barge in and yell, "I'm back, waipo!" at any time. I still don't know how to talk about her in the way I think she deserves.
People say grief comes in waves. But to me grief is a demand for more time. I demand more time to fill this aching abyss of guilt, love, and gratitude I have for Waipo. I'm terrified to forget how she smelled, quipped, and inspired. I want to keep teasing her freshly permed hair, to keep patting her head to see how her curls would bounce back until she'd yell, "Stop flattening my hair. Respect and be grateful you'll have just as much hair as I do in old age." I want to remember how short our hugs were, and how awkward we'd be when I'd force my American display of affection on her. I want to keep brown-nosing my grandma. I miss being able to 鬥 or bicker with her. I miss our weekly calls. She put up with so many of my antics. Even now I know she'd nag at me to get back to work and stop complaining. Even when she yelled at me, I always knew I could get away with anything as the youngest. She loved and spoiled me so much.
How do I describe how much she means to me? How unfair is it that those I meet and love won't be able to know her the way I do? I want to yell to the world how amazing, strong, intelligent, fierce of a hero she is. I want people to witness firsthand her power. I want to hear her roast my friends and family. I want to hear her scoff as she places more food on the table to make sure everyone has more to eat. I want to hear her stories again and again. I want to carve all of who she is into me to make sure I don't forget all the moments we had together, and to remember every detail that defined her.
Random smells, sights and thoughts remind me of Waipo. The hardest moments are seeing kids with their grandparents. It pains me that I can't give grandchildren to my parents to spoil right now, and that I can't create new memories with my grandma. I know I can appreciate what I had with all the "to love is to have lost," crap, but I just really miss her.
I hate how time ages those I love. The power time has to take away anyone I hold dear terrifies me. I want to bubble wrap and package those I love close to me and take away their pain, loneliness, and fears. I want to yell and scream at the world for how cruel time can be.
It's been a year, five months and some change, and it still hurts to think about her in the past tense. I hate how I need to learn how to accept this as apart of life; the natural passage of time.
Waipo, I love and miss you dearly.