Hello, Grandpa

 It's been more than 11 years since you left us. Sometimes I think about you and hope that if there's an actual afterlife, you are together with grandma (whom I never met but always heard was a cool, amazing woman). To be honest, I am scared of after-life but it gave me a little comfort that if there is one, you would be able to reconnect with your love. 

Memories of you swirled back since yesterday when my boyfriend's grandmother died. He was the grandchild who was the closest to his grandmother, and he told me today he still cried remembering his grandmother - snippets of shared memories. And I thought about you. When he first heard the news and he hugged his sobbing mother, I thought about you. When we were on our way to the cemetery, I thought about you. When his grandmother was put on the ground and the grave caretaker started to gravel the ground with red soil, I thought about you. When his mother did not want to leave the cemetery, I thought about you. 

You were a looming figure during my childhood - dad went on a lot of trips, so you were there a lot. I remember you picked me up after school, and we went to have lunch in the same soto spot for years. You allowed me to eat seconds, always! I also remember when the tap broke down and dad was not home so you taught me how to stop the water from running. In many years, I was able to stop the broken tap because you taught me how to. I remember when we were hit by an earthquake and slept in the living room in case there will be any aftershocks, you also slept with us (dad was in another city). I remember you took me to several singing competitions, even though my singing sucked. I remembered when I have to undergo a mini surgery for my toenails, you were holding my hands in the surgery room (my mom could not stand the idea of me in the surgery room). I remember your endless stock of nutrisari. I remember always begging to eat indomie in your house (mom would not let me have one). I remember and remember and the realization that I will never be able to replay these memories hurts even to this day. 

When you first got sick, I was a first-year middle school student, and my school was just a 10-minute walk from your house. I often walked to your house and asked for lunch. I would spend an hour or two before my driver picked me up. You were sick for a year, and in that year I spent at least two days a week walking to your house and accompanying you. When your complication started, you were still walking around and in your last days, you were bedridden, unable to move. It hurt my heart but I still spent hours in your room, talking to you, hoping to see some reaction, in which sometimes you will nod. When you were in ICU, I was so disheartened. You eventually moved back to your house, stating that you would rather die in your home, in your room that you shared with your wife for many years. And you did.

When it happened, my driver picked me up and was the one who told me. I bawled and I called my sister to let her know that you died and we will pick her up in school. My parents were out of town, so they rushed to the first flight available. I was thinking - was he alone when it happened? my grandfather, who spent his last 15 years alone, was he alone in his last moment? Thankfully not. Apparently your first grandkid flew to Jogja and spent your last waking hours together with him. In your last moment, you were not alone.

I cried the whole day and was surrounded by grandmas around the neighborhood who kept saying I should let you go. They kept saying I was your favorite grandchild and I should let you go, which made me cry more. I kept crying because I was sad and I was so sorry. Even at 12 years old I knew that you were lonely in your old days, which made me feel somber even to this day. Grandma was your best friend, the love of your life. After she died, you still take her wedding ring to a jewelry shop and asked for it to be repolished. You went to her grave every week, pouring flowers for her last home. You loved her so so much, even more than you love your child. Your children, albeit successful on their path, were in different cities (dad was the only one who stayed here, and he was barely home anyway), so you were alone. The joke was, your children were all successful so nobody could take care of you. Which hurt me. Your home felt somehow empty whenever I visited and that is why I stayed longer than I have to. I wished I could stay more. I feel guilty leaving your home with only a helper and a nurse beside you. I wished I could accompany you more in your last days and that is why I keep crying when I remember you. I was guilt-ridden by the thought of I wish I was here more. But I couldn't do it because you were gone. You were gone and it's final. I wish you were here now, seeing my milestones. Every time there is a pivotal moment in my life, I wish you were here.

Last month, I dreamt about you. It was so strange because it was the first one for many years since you passed. I did not know whether it was coincidental or not, but it was the week I told my parents that I (might) want to get married this year. The dream was so crystal clear, like a memory. I can even remember the details today. In the dream, I was already the age I am in, but you still looked like you. You could talk and walk freely, which I was grateful to see. You were walking around, accompanied by the male nurse that took care of you in your last year (weirdly enough, the male nurse was also already passed away in real life. And he looked happy in my dream). I hugged you and I told you I am sorry for everything. I am sorry that you could not be there in major moments in my life. I wished you were there when I'm married, and that I found someone who I think can love me as you did for grandma. I kept saying I was sorry, and you kept saying it was okay. He was fine. It was alright. I knew it was only a dream but it felt so real, and when I woke up I cried again. I miss you, and it still feels like a little punch to see your grave. I never forget you, and I will not. We just learn to grief better. You were a big part of my childhood, how can I forget? I miss you every day. I miss you and typing this makes me miss you even more. I hope we can meet again someday - if the afterlife is real. I'll see you when I see you, Grandpa.