Cherished memory: Caleb (right) with his grandfather last August.
I LOST my grandfather, George Thong, to an infection recently.
This experience is hardly unique to me – everybody will, at some point, endure the harrowing pain of losing a loved one. It serves as a powerful reminder of just how precious time is.
As I attended the wake service, I felt a deep sense of regret and guilt.
Thoughts crept into my mind: “I should have called him more”, “Why did I ignore his call that time?”, “I wish I had spent more time with him”, or simply, “I wish we had more time together”.
It was an incredibly depressing feeling to have. I felt like a horrible person – even unworthy of being there.
What disappointed me most was that these feelings only came after he was gone. I never thought about these things when he was alive. To be honest, I rarely even felt these pangs of guilt or selfishness before his passing.
Luckily for me, we had time to say our goodbyes. I know that’s not the case for everyone.
In the hospital, I couldn’t help but wonder how I would change if he made it through. He had a close call once before, and at that time, I did try a little harder to spend time with him. But only when he was truly about to leave did I realise how much I had taken him for granted.
A wave of shame washed over me as I stood there watching him. I had become so preoccupied with myself – my friends, my studies and so on – that I barely made time for him.
I have since learnt many things about my grandfather that I never knew before. How he was supposedly “famous” for his temper at his old residence in Taman Megah, Selangor, or how, even though he often told me he had nothing to do, he was heavily involved with his church.
Despite his final days, he was always known for his smile – a bit of an oxymoron considering his short temper – and his kindness to others.
There were countless other things too – from quirky anecdotes to full-on backstories (like how he and my mum were robbed in Kuantan, Pahang).
It struck me how little I really knew about him, despite talking to him almost every week on the phone.
As the wake drew to a close and the funeral began, I felt slightly closer to him. With every speech and service, it felt like I was getting to know him a little more.
While I still felt ashamed for not always being there for him, it comforted me in a small way. I wondered how much more I would have discovered if I had just asked more questions during our conversations – or whether that would have made me a better grandson.
From this, I have come to realise the importance of spending time with family.
Even if it’s just that one annual dinner you dread or that seemingly “troublesome” 20-minute call – it’s worth it.
If you struggle to find things to talk about, ask about their past. You may be surprised by the stories they share. Ask them about their childhood or where they used to live. If your relatives are anything like my grandfather, all they really want is to spend time with you.
Our time with loved ones is incredibly scarce and valuable. We never know when it will run out – and when it does, we should have no regrets, only warm memories.
Caleb, 16, a student in Kuala Lumpur, is a participant of the BRATs Young Journalist Programme run by The Star’s Newspaper-in-Education (Star-NiE) team. For updates on the BRATs programme, go to facebook.com/niebrats.
