Last night my grandfather passed away suddenly of a cardiac arrest, collapsing in the kitchen while getting a drink. It was a sudden and unanticipated event for he never showed signs of physical duress.

When I woke up that morning, the news that broke to me send me into an emotional plunge, a silent dread. I had feared this day would come. Of all my grandparents, I loved Ah Gong the most. My paternal grandfather died when I was very young. My paternal grandmother spoke only teochew and so I could not truly communicate with her. Popo too passed away at an age when I was too young to understand the adult world and she too had a communication barrier with my generation. Ah Gong was my only friend from that generation.

I remember him as the most generous and jovial grandparent. I remember how twice, I stayed with him at the unit in Pasir Ris because I could play computer there without my mum's interference. He would bring me out daily and joked "this is the life of a bachelor". I remember how he was incredibly susceptible to my pestering. He accommodated nearly all of my demands.

I remember how I pestered him to watch a movie with me to his dread of course (he slept during the movie and I wasn't very pleased with that XD)and after that we went for a sakae sushi buffet (I'm demanding huh?) and he didn't eat a lot (I wasn't very pleased with that either XD). But at the end of the day I loved how he wasn't stingy like my mum and dad. For the first time I felt pampered. This wasn't the end of his generosity. I remember how he spent 30 dollars on my bermudas (of which I still have the dark blue shorts, I donated the light blue one because it was too gaudy sorry ah gong)out of his own initiative because he was concerned I had not enough clothes for my stayover. He was the one who bought me the harry potter DVD in a time when I was under witch hunting laws in my own home. Yes, my parents banned harry potter because they deemed was occult. I remembered how it was going to be my mothers birthday and I suggest to my grandpa to buy an pair of gold earrings for me to give my mum as a present. A mere suggestion became reality. I felt and still feel bad for making Ah Gong spent so much on me. Yet, I am glad I did so, as now I have things to remember him by.

I remember listening to Ah Gong when we were on the train. He was the one who taught me about how the protestant church was founded from the catholic church. This piece of knowledge I cited very often in my future pro-atheistic rhetoric. I remembered how I asked him whether he believed in the afterlife. But I have forgotten his answer.

Something my mum wouldn't be pleased to hear. It was ah gong who taught me how to shade 4D. I stupidly shaded the same number 34 on 2 tickets because it was my favourite number. Ah gong chided me after he found out.

Ah Gong is someone who will be deeply etched in my mind. When I ask myself why I want to be a doctor, I will always flash back to this moment in time where we stood in front of popo's coffin and tears flowed down his cheeks. I remembered his sniffles of sadness when we visited Popo's ashes and my great grandmother's grave. Seeing the helplessness of grief make a grown man tear brought a trembling through my heart. It is the insurmountable certainty of death that frightened me. I wanted to fight it. Today I stood before his serene face, tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn't tear. I will not fall into depression because of grief.

I however regret that I passed on the chance to see him one last last time because of my medical school interviews. That night, I received $15 instead of the usual $10. I felt guilty. Was he telling me that he wanted me to visit him? (It cannot because we just saw each other at his birthday on 1st April) Like an ominous sign of what was to come, I felt a shiver down my spine which I shrugged off. It was however, not the only sign. My energizer torchlight which he bought me spoiled the week of his departure (ie last week). All these years, I've received $10 every time I visited ah gong. I never understood why he would give us that (then big) amount money. It always meant a lot to me for my allowance was miserably low.

Today, my mother told me why. That $10 symbolised his blessings to me. To him, $10 was a pittance (trust me I know because he was carrying a $40k cheque when we went to raffles place). But to me, it meant a lot more spending power as a kid. I felt comforted by this symbolism. By giving to us, it felt like I was receiving a part of him.

Dear Ah Gong, I will remember you to my own deathbed.