Grave

Today was Cheng Beng for my family. That is the Chinese practice of visiting our ancestor's graves to pay our respects, by cleaning up the compound, blessing them with holy tags, and gifting them "money for the dead", for their afterlife*.

*Correct me if I'm misinformed, because I've lost a lot of cultural identity through the years.

Great great grandfather's grave was the first of the lot, and we have trouble locating it as many of his neighbors had relocated, thus making memory jogs that much harder with the removal of many landmarks.

Great grandfather and great grandmother were relocated some 4 years back to join my grandfather at adjoining graves in a new, nicer complex in Semenyih. They used to reside there in isolation, but not anymore.

My naivety blinded the glaring reality that people do die in my three years abroad. What was just an island of my ancestor's tombs are now inhabited by family other acquaintances. And it is morbid to think of such drastic changes in scenery when I was abroad.

Once we were done with formalities, my parents took a detour to another site, which was new. Puzzled and assuming my cultural duty as the eldest son, I joined them to visit this new site. Maybe we relocated a distant relative, I thought.

My dad quickly addressed that question, with an alarming sense of casual calmness. It was Uncle Wai Chong, my parent's close friend. I didn't even know about it.

Reading his tombstone, and realising that my parents had already outlived him made it slightly more dreary. He would have celebrated his 51st birthday just two days ago. He died last year, just months before my return to Malaysia. Tears started to well up. I did my best to suppress them.

I still remember visiting his house, and fishing for the first and only time in the pond right outside Uncle Wai Chong's compound. That was almost 7 years ago, and I never met him since.

Little did I know that would be the only time I see him in person. The fragility of human life really upsets me.

I've said this before about this blog and the feelings portrayed here. It's unapologetically real and organic, and I won't put a positive spin on this. I'm not sorry for that. I'm only sorry that everyone has to live through this pain.

Tiny note: 7 Years - Lukas Graham. Right in the feels.

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