Shawdanger

Remembering

My grandfather died yesterday. Supposedly he went peacefully. As my mom put it, “He took a long, deep breath and went…” It’s always vague where the person went. She asked me to pray for him. I think that is her way of saying remember and think about him.  

It was strange seeing him during the long decline. He became so weak. When I was a child, he was someone who epitomized calm strength. He would bike up the steepest Kawagoe hills with me sitting on the back, holding onto his belt loops, his pedaling rhythmic and steady. He was quiet and rarely raised his voice, and rather than talk, he was content to mostly listen and observe. His relaxed face always looked serious. Because of this, when he smiled, it seemed extra special.

One of the few instances where he showed raw emotion was when we watched Enka performances on TV. Something about those corny Japanese ballads really touched him. He would sing along with a soft gravel voice and always tear up at the conclusion of the really sad ones. 

I won’t be there to support my family during the funeral ceremony, as I would have had to leave this morning and take off about a week of work (also, the flights are beyond capacity), but I hope my mom and grandma make it through okay. I will make sure to visit them this winter vacation. The house will feel so empty.