it's a very funny thing to be informed of someone dying. things become systematic, logical, factual. i called work, i took a shower, i cancelled my dinner plans, i turned on my laptop, i didn't know what to do with my hands. i remember reading an article on the psychology of suicide notes and how real ones repeat mundane facts like 'please feed my cat at 3pm' rather than 'i miss and love you'. death, like anything, is easier dealt with when divorced from emotion.
it feels like any other morning yet it feels inappropriate to continue watching sex and the city or to scroll mindlessly on facebook. i've never lost anyone before. i've never felt what it is to hear my own mother dearest cry like that. it isn't as though i'm unfamiliar with death, it's that death has never been relevant to me. i booked flights to china. i'm not going. i tried to talk to mum about things but when i went into her room she was googling appropriate funeral wear on her ipad so i sat on the bed and helped her pick a black dress for a winter day. i continued to sit there, watching her wipe down benches, sweep the floors, take out the trash, do the laundry and despite all the noise, we both felt the quiet. "do you want to lie down?" "no". she was struggling to be busy which was just like her father to do. he never understood rest; he was childlike, excitable and full of ways to make the toughest teeth laugh. he was straight like a mean bullet and never depended on anything/body except the cigarettes he swapped for sugar. i've never met anyone so full of quirks, soft drinks and ice cream.
i whipped up a green smoothie and for once, mum didn't complain and drank it all. dad came home and they went out to buy last minute things, they returned with bags stuffed with food for my brother and i, tim tams, emu oil and 14 blocks of butter. did you know butter is terribly expensive in beijing? i packed it away. i packed mum's luggage too because i like doing it and mum was crying again because my grandma messaged her that she missed her. after that mum told me her eyes hurt but i know it isn't her eyes. i wish i had eyedrops to soothe her stings, or the ability to stop tearing every time i look at her.
lao ye,
i won't say rest in peace. instead, i hope your departure felt warm and with love, i hope the sugar you consumed so ridiculously had seeped into the marrow of your bones and left you feeling nothing but sweetness. for everyone who's path you came tumbling into, you brought laughter so breathless, so unique. my skin's been burned twice in my existence, once from your cigarette, once from your cooking. one scar remains on my left hand, and with that hand i'll never deny a chance to seize opportunity for laughter, change and strength in the way you did. thank you for being a great example of a life lived, thank you for having being part of my life. i love you.
:')
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