I am not a stranger to grief. But then why does this feel so heavy still?
Content warning: Death of a family member
The day before NYE I was sitting at work, wondering if I could get out of work for the weekend because the weather was supposed to be warm and it would be perfect for race training. Of course this was me just playing hypotheticals because I rarely call out of work unless it’s a true emergency. I also never call out sick from work but this December was just full of surprises as I called out sick for the first time in my life. Well, be careful what you wish for because it seems like God has a funny sense of humor this month because as his parting gift for me for 2022, as I was getting ready for an uneventful NYE at work, I got a text from my dad that my grandpa was doing really bad and he didn’t have much time left. He sent me a video of my grandpa all hooked up to a ventilator and IVs, asking all the kids if we could make it to the hospital asap.
Within 15 minutes I went through several different waves of emotions and decision making. At first I thought to myself, I have work til Tuesday, I’ll see him Tuesday when I’m off. My dad had told me earlier last week on Xmas eve my grandpa had been admitted to the hospital because he stopped eating. I felt jaded at first and I’m not really sure why. But then as it started to sink in and re-watching the video of my grandpa made me feel emotional. I started crying and anxiety set in. I felt guilt for my initial reaction. The severity and urgency of the situation sunk in. I felt a wave of extreme sadness wash over me for what was happening. I switched my mindset out of my workaholic mode. I texted work that I wasn’t going to be able to come in and started making plans with my siblings to make it out there asap. I made my way over to the hospital with my siblings and mom in tow that evening through the wretched rain that felt like it was purposely happening to go along with the day’s somber mood. This was NOT how I had planned my NYE to go. I got out of work, but now my entire day was thrown into chaos and the weather was gloomy and sullen to match. God must have been laughing at me.
The hospital was really nice and sent us up straight away without wasting any time and bothering us to check in. It hit me even harder when I finally saw him in person and how much of a shell of a person he was left, all hooked up to everything. I could see all the necrosis and sores and infections all over his body. His hands were so swollen. Growing up, my parents didn’t show much emotion and vulnerability so it made me even more sad when I saw my dad sitting next to his bed, clutching his oxygen monitor, feeling helpless and looking distressed. Watching the machine help him breathe and watching his chest constantly pump so forcefully up and down didn’t help my own emotions either. I’m glad I took off of work and made it in time to be with him in his last moments, even if he was no longer conscious nor remember who I even was anymore.
He passed that evening around 10:50pm. I’m hoping in his final moments, he was no longer in pain.
His wake is tomorrow and honestly I’m not ready for it. I’ve been processing everything and trying to keep it together best I can but every so often a wave will come over me. I remember this from when my old boss Rocco passed and I remember it taking me a while before I was okay. I remember driving to work months almost a year later and out of nowhere a wave of sadness rushed over me and I was crying walking into work. I couldn’t even explain it. I remember seeing a cartoon about grief and how it never gets smaller or easier but rather, we just make room for it. I’m not looking forward to the time it’s going to take for me to work through this, but I know it’s inevitable. My mom had lost her mom at the beginning of covid, and I remember she was going through a rough time especially since she wasn’t able to travel back to be with her family and be there for the burial due to pandemic restrictions. Now it’s my dad turn with grief. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for both of them. And as their child, I don’t know how to help them either, growing up in a household where my parents never showed much emotion other than anger, in order to assert their authority in their old traditional ways. All I can do is try and be there for them, and hopefully try to find opportunities to spend even more time with them this year and in the years to come to strengthen our bonds and time together. I am glad though that my adulthood has definitely been marked with more warmth in recent years than my childhood. My dad has definitely opened up more since I got married, and not just with me, but with all my siblings. He goes out to eat with us, offers to pay for dinners, and even goes on vacations when he’s able to. He still doesn’t talk much but when he does, it’s a delight. I guess this is how I move forward to honor my grandpa. By building my relationships with my parents in the present day. To change old systems and build new traditions and warm bonds.
This morning my aunt asked all the grandkids to write something for my grandpa to put in his casket to send with him for him to read in the afterlife. I’ve been trying to find the words all night.
Dear Grandpa,
I know it’s been years since we talked or seen each other and I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to visit more, using the poor excuse that you no longer remembered me and that I was always busy with work and life and distance.
There’s nothing I can say to make up for lost time and while all I can do is ask for forgiveness, I just want you to know that I miss you and all our times together growing up.
I know being the firstborn, I was not what you wanted (a girl instead of a boy since you still gave me a boy’s name anyway) but I do know that you still loved me regardless and didn’t recognize til now in retrospect that I was actually your favorite anyway. I didn’t appreciate it at the time but now looking back, I realize the bigger picture. I used to want to be Co Be’s favorite and was jealous that my brother was instead and that I was always ‘stuck’ with you. Now I realize I wasn’t stuck. YOU chose me. You chose to spend time with me over the firstborn son, my baby brother, when he finally arrived. It was me you took to Chinatown, to market, to the corner bodegas, to the Bronx playgrounds, to the dress shops, to the quarter ride machines, to the ice cream trucks when they rolled up outside the apartment. It was me whom you would wake up early for to record all the Sailor Moon episodes because my dad wouldn’t buy cable at my house but you had. It was me who you always cooked fresh meals for and made sure I ate even when I didn’t want to. It was me who you always played calming music for, when I had to nap. And while I grew up and visited less and less, I will carry these memories of you with me for the rest of my life, this time, realizing it was all love.
I hope you are at peace and no longer in pain. I hope you are reunited with grandma after so many years without her. I can’t imagine how lonely it must have been and how isolated you must have felt in a foreign country all this time, as you watched your family grow up and go on to live their own lives. I realize now how strong you are for continuing on and keeping the family together. I hope that you felt some comfort in all your grandkids as we spent time with you growing up.
Thank you for everything you did for me, and everything you taught me growing up. Your love will live on in me in a renewed sense as I promise to take more time for my parents and honor them. I haven’t been able to share with you everything I accomplished since I got married since your mind and memory was no longer what it once was, but I’d like to think that you are proud of me, despite me not being a boy. I hope you are. And I hope you know how much I love you and am going to miss you.
Love always,
Kieu Chinh
