My grandpa passed away last week. My mom and aunts are in Malaysia together. Yesterday, they had the memorial service. I'm sad that I wasn't able to go. People have been asking me how I feel and if I need anything, but I'm fine. I cried when I first heard the news that he had died, but I know he's in a better place now where his brain isn't dying anymore. He developed Alzheimer's after a stroke a few years ago. It was hard seeing/hearing my mom cry about him forgetting who she is.
My grandpa lived with my family the longest when I was growing up, as opposed to living with his other daughters. As a result, I was able to get to know him well. He used to jog some 6 miles every morning before the sun came up, drink a giant bowl of water, and then teach me how to stretch properly after exercising. He used to play Chinese music really loudly in his room while reading Chinese newspapers. I remember that he had built this chair in his room, where he could lift up the cushion and put personal stuff in there, like his passport and some pictures and money. Sometimes my brother and I would go in there and listen to the music with him. Then he'd take one of our stuffed animals and use it as a puppet to make us laugh. Some decades later, when I told my mom about those memories, she was surprised, because he was never that playful and affectionate when she and my aunts were kids. When my grandpa began to forget his grandchildren, he would still recognize me and my brother in photographs. I'm thankful that I got to spend as much time as I did with him. He is my first grandparent to pass away. I'm not so sad anymore, because I know I'll see him again. He's in heaven with a clear mind, a young and handsome face, and jogging on golden streets.
My grandpa lived with my family the longest when I was growing up, as opposed to living with his other daughters. As a result, I was able to get to know him well. He used to jog some 6 miles every morning before the sun came up, drink a giant bowl of water, and then teach me how to stretch properly after exercising. He used to play Chinese music really loudly in his room while reading Chinese newspapers. I remember that he had built this chair in his room, where he could lift up the cushion and put personal stuff in there, like his passport and some pictures and money. Sometimes my brother and I would go in there and listen to the music with him. Then he'd take one of our stuffed animals and use it as a puppet to make us laugh. Some decades later, when I told my mom about those memories, she was surprised, because he was never that playful and affectionate when she and my aunts were kids. When my grandpa began to forget his grandchildren, he would still recognize me and my brother in photographs. I'm thankful that I got to spend as much time as I did with him. He is my first grandparent to pass away. I'm not so sad anymore, because I know I'll see him again. He's in heaven with a clear mind, a young and handsome face, and jogging on golden streets.
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