Grandpa's death essay

Yesterday, at my grandfather's funeral, I learned that my dad told my grandfather on July 4 that he would leave Beijing in two days. When my uncle came to take over, my grandfather bowed his hands. When I left Beijing to say goodbye to my grandfather on July 6, my grandfather kept holding me Dad didn't let go of his hand, and his mouth was unable to speak. I have not witnessed these two actions, but after listening to the description, I will never forget these two scenes.

My dad explained that holding hands is a thank you, thanking him for his company and taking care of him in the last period of time; my uncle said that holding hands may be because he has a hunch that time is running out, and he is afraid that he will never see him again. I don't know what Grandpa thought. How does a person prepare at the end of his life?

Grandpa wrote a suicide note very early. This is what my dad said, and it should have been suggested by my dad. He is always rational and can make a lot of predictions early. On my mother's side, because my grandfather and grandmother didn't talk about many things clearly before they died, the children always had some arguments after their death. Everyone said they didn't want inheritance, but everyone blamed others for coveting, and it was very strange. Reason can accurately calculate a lot of external things, and can accurately arrange the world, but can it be lived to the end? I have no idea.

Grandpa's cupping his fists and holding hands, what does it mean?

In the past, grandma and grandma would sit in front of the TV after dinner and watch shoddy BTV dramas, with the voice turned on so loudly because grandma was behind her ears. Grandpa is not as savvy as grandma, and many plots are not understood, and they are often confirmed repeatedly. It seems that in the last year, until they finally stopped sitting still, they still had this habit. It is estimated that Grandpa could fish in troubled waters. When I came home for dinner at the beginning of this year, my grandfather sat at the dining table, raised his hands up and touched the wall in a confused way and said something was about to fall. , so that grandpa can put his hands down and say that he is holding steady. Grandpa put his hand down uneasy and put it back again, and repeatedly confirmed whether he was holding it steady. I guess my dad didn't see what grandpa saw.

In the last few days of his life, such a person who is confused by the naked eye and body, clearly gave my dad a fist and a hand, what did he feel?

People often say that death is called away. When my dad sent me a message, he said that my grandfather was gone. When my uncle told my grandmother that my grandfather was gone, my grandmother responded with "leave". What do you mean by gone? I have been savoring these two words. A man lying down left. A motionless man is gone. Grandpa has neither active choice nor physical ability, but he is gone. It was clear that the god of death came to collect people, and he had to lie down and disappear, but we gave him the title of "going", as if he was really going somewhere, and he had to leave for a period of time, he chose a means of action.

In the mourning hall, after we finished a round of rituals, grandpa's coffin was pulled out to cover the coffin. The uncle stroked grandpa's cheek a few times. My dad glanced at it with red eyes, and then asked, is it right? Once it's covered, you can't see it anymore. The answer is that it was cremated after going to Babao Mountain, and there is no chance to open the cover again. My dad nodded and didn't fight for it any more, the uncle also acquiesced. They didn't want to let go like grandpa holding my dad's hand for a long time, but acquiesced to this fact. We carried the coffin and walked away, towards the hearse. Grandpa is gone, we carry him and send him away, we know we should go, no matter how many times we look, we will leave sooner or later.

The second uncle's family is in the United States, and they can't come back now. In previous years, they always came back during the holidays or when the air tickets were cheaper. The last time they came back was during the Spring Festival last year. The second uncle's two children, our cousins, last came back three years ago in the summer. In the mourning hall, my dad and them had separate videos to show them grandpa lying in the box. Grandpa didn't meet the second uncle after all. According to my dad, he was their favorite son, but he couldn't leave.

gone. Really strange words. Who is walking? Who is taking the initiative? Who is passively walking away?

The two times when I came home in the last week, my dad asked me to help my grandpa get out of bed, get into a wheelchair, and go back to bed. That's not an easy job. The skinny old man weighing more than 100 pounds has almost no ability to move. He closes his eyes and legs and can't use strength. His slender limbs are just relying on me, and the wheelchair on the other side needs to be fixed to prevent both of them from falling. During this process, my grandfather always thought I was my dad, and often pointed at this and that, as if it was an ordinary signal, expecting some response, I was basically at a loss, and responded loudly to what you wanted, he couldn't open his mouth, Sometimes it's just that, or my dad will do it.

In this way, he cupped his fists and held hands, and it seemed that there was no clear target, so who was he salute?

I once had a friend, Ting, who worked as a death experience center in Shanghai. Before that, he worked as a hospice volunteer, welcoming countless dead people to the road. He will hold his hand at the last moment of the other party and ask if he has anything else to say. When the other party finishes speaking, he will hold his hand and tell him that we will see you in the next life. Then leave the room and give the other person some alone time. Grandparents were also alone many times during their lifetimes. They were lying on the bed, feeling the torment of their bodies alone, or sitting on the sofa, with each side holding their arms for a long time, not knowing what they were thinking, or My mind was so slow that I couldn't think of anything.

I have been to Ting's death experience hall, where 13 people pass through layers of death games involving social and physical mechanics. I survived to the last round. Just when there was a smile of game clearance on the corner of my mouth, the loudspeaker above my head told me that I had sent 12 people away, and at the end of my life, I was alone, which means loneliness. As soon as the lights went out, I was the only one left in darkness. Only then did I realize that at the end of this step-by-step life process, what awaited me was not victory. But I'm also not sure if the darkness after turning off the lights really means loneliness, or if there should be more grand courage.

I couldn't confirm with Grandpa if I was in that darkness after bowing and holding hands. I can't go and say the last word to my grandpa, ask him if he has anything he wants to say. I don't know how much time Grandpa spent alone with his arms crossed before his death, and how much time he was really with the people he wanted to be with.

I'm even more unsure how much he really wants to leave and how much he has to leave.