Gentleness
My vision blurred from my salty tears. The solemn melody from the trumpets, drums and all sorts of instruments were ear- deafening, as if making sure we would not forget the fact that he was gone. All the loud sniffs and crying were so contagious that after filling a pail of tears, a large wave of sorrow would overwhelm you again. Ignoring my blurred vision, I tried to piece the hard reality together as I stared at the sandalwood coffin. The heart wrenching pain felt as if someone was slicing across my skin with a sharp knife. He was really gone. Unconsciously, I was brought back to all the memories I had with my grandfather.

My grandfather, a firm and serious man, had been the head of a construction company. Although he had a slight air of conceitedness but he never did once looked down on others. He was a great man and an influential leader that make others looked at him in awe. Although at home, he had a patriarchal thinking and never showed his soft side to others, however, towards his grandchildren it was a whole different story. When we were young, he would express his love to us with little treats that he insisted to buy even when we repeatedly refused him to. He will let us watch the television although his favourite show was on. His sweet thoughts were often hidden behind his stern face. Yet, when he smiled, the whole world seemed to light up.

Behind all these tough sides of him, he had his gentle side. When we got hurt, he would attend to our wounds and relieving us of our pain, ensuring everything was perfect. A perfectionist like him would not mind to spend a whole hour to make sure our hand is properly bandaged. A few months before this, he used to gently pat us on the head when we greeted him when we arrive and leave. He hardly spoke much as it hurt his throat to even utter the simplest of syllables. On his last few days, because he was feeling breathless, the only way of acknowledging our arrival to the hospital was through holding our hands. His warm wrinkled hands would gently rub the back of our hands repeatedly as he manages a feeble smile.

He was not a man who showed his soft side, but from every of his actions, his gentleness, touched all of our hearts. The memories, the experiences with him, would never fade away, it would linger on even as he passed on to a better place. Just as the silver of a tear trickled down my eyes, the loud crashing of the silver cymbals broke my thoughts. I stared back at your sandalwood bed and these thoughts formed in my head “I will miss you”.