To me, Kong-Kong was always going to be around. I didn’t know what death was.
Until 1 June 2008, when Kong-kong passed away suddenly, probably due to a heart attack.
I was in Kedah on a mission trip. The 4.5 hour Emerge Finale service came to an end and everyone was cheering happily. I didn’t have my handphone with me the entire time. Wenfu came to me and asked me to stand up as he had something to tell me.
“Your grandfather passed away this morning.”
I sat down. I continued to calmly clear my laptops and papers. But before too long, I started crying.
Thoughts ran through my head at that time: “When was the last time I had seen him? What did we last talk about? Why didn’t I go for the family dinner last week? Why didn’t I see him that one last time? Why didn’t I call him before I left?”
Victor, the mission team leader, tried to arrange for a flight for me back to JB. After discussing with my mum, I declined the offer. She said it didn’t matter, there was nothing I could do back there anyway. The team prayed for me. Tears flowed down my cheeks.
I tried to remember the way Kong-Kong was. His voice, the way he smiled.
On the 12-hour bus journey home, I slept most of the way. Cheerful on the outside, yet melancholic at times. Crying silently at times. Longing, yet dreading, to go home. Wishing that everything was a dream, a bad dream.
My brother and sister were grieving in Melbourne. My parents decided there was no point for them to come home, especially with their exams coming up. I worried for them.
The wake was held in my grandparents’ place. More than 50 wreaths were sent. Hundreds of people turned up, such was the status and influence that my grandfather had. His coffin was placed in the middle of the living room, with his picture before it. Friends came, from the Kedah mission team, from SOT, from my CG, from Chorus Board, from Skin. I thank God for their love & concern.
Over those 4 days, I spent as much time as I could in the living room, next to him. Just quietly sitting there. Spending those last few moments with my grandfather, time I had not spent with him in a long long while, since I was a little girl. His spirit was no longer there, only his physical shell. But I treasured whatever remained of him.
Quietly, I just sat there. Whenever there were no visitors to talk to or to welcome, I would spend my time with Kong-Kong. You never really treasure someone till the person is gone. But I know Kong-Kong loved me, and I knew he knew I loved him too.
I cried myself to sleep on a few nights. I cried on the day of the funeral, when my mum read out letters from my sister and brother in front of the whole family, in front of Kong-Kong. I cried in my room the morning after the funeral, until my dad came to my room to ask what was wrong with me.
I cried. And I cried. I almost wanted to give up.
Then I rested for one day. Spent time with my grandmother. And I rested for another day. Until my heart was ready. Ready to face the world again.
Now I don’t cry anymore. I remember.
I remember him always asking me questions: “Are you still working in sales? Are you still giving tuition?” He was always so concerned about the welfare of all his grandchildren. I remember spending time in his office when I was a little girl, having lunch at Tanglin Club on Saturdays, which later became chicken rice meals at his home. I remember teaching him to use the computer, and how he always told me he couldn’t do this and that ‘cos he was old.
I remember his smile, his hugs, his voice. I remember his laugh. I remember his love for the family. I remember his values & philosophies.
I remember Kong-Kong, just as he was.
I love you, Kong-Kong.
“The world does not care for what we lack, it’s interested only in what we can offer.”
- Dr Lee Kum Tatt, my dearest Kong-Kong
