I was motivated by the need for catharsis rather than pure service as i volunteered for errand after errand. As i drove to Mustafa, Chiragh Din and then back to Meyer Park, the Bhangra Blasted loud as i sunk into the leather seats of the car I imagined to own trying to feel 'there' instead of being so truly here, dealing with deadlines, exams, competition and now, death.
The focus is on my family now. I've never actually said that before. Family has always been number 3, maybe 4 on my agenda. This week at least, its number 1. It is time to step up.
Grandpa, affectionately known as 'Papai' or 'Popeye' left this morning. Finally i say. He's suffered long enough. For a man who only said good and did good, i cannot begin to understand why he suffered so much as his life drew to a close.
Tomorrows obituary will read 'passed away peacefully' - that couldn't be farther from the truth. The only thing peaceful about his last 2 years was the moment of his death. I cling to a hope that his suffering was to clear his debt before going to heaven. Some accounts from previous lives must have been unsettled but God, seeing his great performance this life, really wanted him in heaven so he struck him a deal, 'suffer now and i'll wipe the slate clean.' The slate has never been so polished.
Grandma, or mom as everyone calls her, flipped the curtain as she approached his bed. Seeing her deceased love, she brought her palms together, raised them to her forehead and bowed her head in a final act of respect to the man she served all her life. And then the tears began to fall.
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