So lately I've been busy with school and family things and didn't post much. Although, more 'paranormal' things have happened to me and somehow, I began to think...
Does everyone have a purpose in life? A single purpose as to why they have to live?
It hit me and something happened; something alike to this yet only a small hint of it.
Today I'll be telling you a story of what happened on the 6th of September, 2010.
The day when I arrived in Taiwan.
The day when I took a step off the plane and received a call from my dad,
telling me my grandfather just passed.
Well, my dad went to taiwan about 2 weeks earlier than my mother, siblings and I did. He spent each and every moment of time he could (excluding his need to work and sleep) with my grandfather. Despite the fact that he had to deal with his working life lately, he still had to spend some family time, especially with his most loved ones.
My grandfather is 78, about to turn 79. To be honest, I expected his death to be sometime around this month. I never thought it would actually occur.
Spending time with him, my father and his took a walk with him every day around the area where they lived; relieving the past and reminiscing old childhood memories - basically a father and son's special time. My grandfather loved my dad the most anyways, since he was a wee little boy.
Isn't it odd? My father arrives in Taiwan at the last couple of weeks before his father leaves.
Then, I was on the way to Taiwan.
On the plane I had this weird feeling that something bad was going to happen.
Exactly once I got off the plane, the phone rings and I picked it up. My dad just called us telling that our grandfather, whom my siblings have never met, just passed away.
No he didn't die from a heart attack. He didn't die from a painful death.
It was all so suddenly, he died while he watched women's wrestling on TV.
Sitting on his chair and then letting his soul exit from his body and fly away.
We drove to our house there and entered with a sad welcome. Everyone was mourning for our grandfather.
I saw a little girl who was apparently my niece. I was shocked.
Her attitude was exactly like my grandfather's and mine.
She reminded me of... me... back when I was her age.
When my grandfather used to take me with him around the area on his motorbike.
I guess it's my turn now.
I loved my grandfather a lot. I shed a tear or two as I saw his dead, pale face.
I did not cry like the rest of my cousins.
He left with a smile, one that says 'don't worry I'm still here'.
No, it isn't a lie.
He was there with us.
He was in our hearts.
I smiled back, telling him that I missed him and I expected more of his love to my siblings.
I guess that won't happen then.
Well, it was a heavy loss for the family but I guess it was time for him to go.
Thanks for everything Gramps :)
