It has been a very long time since I last wrote.  This is to thank many people in my life, including those who encouraged me to write again, those who lend me their listening ears during this difficult time, those who know my family, those who are in my family.  Mostly importantly, this post is dedicated to my grandpa who recently passed away.

I don't really know where to start.  It is really as if I carry a black cloud over my head over the last month and a half- loved ones getting sick and dying.  Some people suggested that I write down events, emotions, etc, as my family go through this difficult times.  I honestly don't really know how to describe my emotions.  It definitely hit all of the things in the process of grieving.  As with my grandpa, I think there is definitely some surprise (not knowing that he was hospitalized, and hearing from my aunt), anger (that my parents tried to protect me), sadness, and acceptance.

In April, I was in palliative care rotation.  The first week was just heart breaking.  It was difficult to counsel others when I was so wrapped up in emotion myself, just coming back from a vacation with my usual separation anxiety and sadness because I know that I am not going to see my parents for quite some time again.  Watching a loving wife dealing with a dying husband who knew that he was dying but still supportive of his wife was heart breaking.  Watching their adult son's close relationship with the couple, supporting the patient's wife, and yet dealing with his own emotion was heart breaking.  I learned from him that it really sucks not to be able to breathe and to feel like he was suffocating.  We promised him that he would not have to go through that at the end of his life, whenever it may be.  I would be a bag of tears at the end of the day each day...  reflecting on my own life, thinking how horrible if would be if I don't get there in time for my parents when they are dying.  How one of them would handle the situation...and truth be told, the living may not tell me until after the fact, because he/she will want to protect me from knowing death.  I've seen death...many times.  Held the dyings' hands as they took their last breathes.  Gave their loved ones some tight squeezing hugs (if they prefer hugs) or be present with their loved ones during that very last moment of life.  I do believe the spirits live on...within the hearts of the living ones.  Hopefully, not to ever haunt them, but to bring some joyous memory to them as they move on with their lives.  I hope my parents never protect me, but they do.  Most parents do even at their last moments.

Well, my parents protected me from learning about my grandfather's rapid decline for several days until I found out from my aunt in NY that my grandfather was in the hospital.  She did not realize that my parents did not tell me.  It was upsetting...but I know why they did that, because they knew that I was dealing with another very seriously ill family member.  My grandma did not want me to go back...  I don't know if my grandfather did or not, because I could not really have a real conversation with him.  At least I had a chance to say goodbye.  It seems like it was the last condolence that could appease me in this horrible situation.  Bound to NY because of sick family member here...at least I said my goodbye.  Mom called me at 1AM on a Thursday morning...5/8/2014...  woke me up as I just fell asleep.  I saw the number, almost did not pick it up, until I recognized that it is from Taiwan.  "Must be important" went through my mind.  I answered.  Mom said that it is time for me to say goodbye.  She told them (dad and uncle) my wish to live without regret and to be able to say goodbye, since I don't want to repeat what happened with grandma almost 16 years ago.  I am so thankful that she advocated for me...  She put me on speaker phone and told me that he cannot talk because he is on the mask.  I asked him to nod his head to them because I was not sure that he could hear me since he is so hard of hearing.  They said that he nodded his head.  I told him that I love him, that I wish I was there with him, that if I were there right now, I would give him the biggest hug ever.  There was a long pause until I found my word and courage to say it in the speaker phone, in front of my parents and my uncle.  I told him that I wish and hope that all of his wishes would come true, because Mom had said to me that he wrote "Let me go" in English...  I said goodbye to him that night/morning.  That was my last time speaking to him.  I don't think I have regret.  I called my dad the next day....  He sounded heartbroken.  Both he and I knew that the time is coming.  Both he and I have seen many deaths.  Like any boy about to lose a parent, he sounded scared and worried.  He wanted to help but did not know how other than to not do anything invasive to cause more pain.  I told him that suffocating is one of the worst feelings in life...according to those whom I have worked with and told me before they died.  I told him about what to do for breathlessness...  I told him about the things he should tell grandpa.  He told me that he understood.  What I really wish for at that moment, is really to be there for my dad, to hug him or hold him...  It is never easy to lose someone that you love and care about.

To be honest, I don't really think I know my grandpa very well.  He is quiet, does not express much of his feelings.  Occasionally, when the situation is right, he cracks some hilarious jokes (which my mom never finds funny...as they don't get along).  When I was in high school...he told me a lot about his life growing up in China...the paintings and antiques that greatgrandfather collected, the Japanese people living across the hills, the Japanese school that he went to, his amazing calligraphy compared to the Japanese school children's, his college, the bomb shelters, and the escape from the communists, the life of a history teacher..  He told me about his father's feat on reclaiming lands for the Chinese government from the Japanese.  One thing that he showed me was a nice carved stone stamp that used to belong to his father...  He did not tell me about his father's capture or disappearance, nor his TB.  I do wonder if grandpa would tell me more about his life and stories if I had grew up in Taiwan.  I will never find out.  He was fond of me for doing all the things that I did, for being a good daughter who made the family proud.  He never told me that he loves me.  He doesn't have to.  It is not something he grew up hearing or saying.  It is his chuckle or smile that tells me that he loves and cares about me.  The old Chinese way of expressing love is embedded in questions such as "have you eaten?  eat more!  are you sleeping?  Get some rest!"  It is embedded in actions like, cooking my favorite Chinese dish, putting an extra piece of my favorite food in my plate, making me eating an extra piece of their favorite foods even though I might be completely full or even though I might not like their favorite food at all.  I will remember that the last dinner we had around Chinese new year in 2013, as we walked to the car, he held my hand and told me that he thanks my mom for everything she's done for Yee and I.  It was really from the bottom of his heart, and it was his way of trying to apologize to my mom for whatever he said to her back many many years ago.  I hope that as he moves on, mom will also learn to forgive whatever conflicts that they had in the past.

At this point, all I really wish for is that my dad will be okay.  Monday, 6/9/2014 is the funeral.  Almost a month after grandpa's death.  I am not going back because grandma asked me not to and dad ultimately asked me not to.  I have to respect them and not to go back.  Taking a day off, so I can remember him...  a man with pure white hair and very white and very long eye brows, who held my arm and told me that he was proud of me.  Thanks for being a part of my life...