On hearing the sad news

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Last night when I was in the classroom watching over the students, I received a telephone from my sister that my grandfather, who is 90 years old now, is most probably passing away. I felt very sad, mentally depressed at such happenings.

Within the past two years two members of my family have passed away, my mother and my eldest uncle. It seems that life and death, takes only an moment and the fire of death, is so easily smothered but so hard to be kindled. We were born to the earth. We live a life for only several decades, and then we swiftly plunge into the depth of grave and enjoy the everlasting, never-to-rise sleep.

When my mother was on her bed passing away, she managed to get up and then lie down again several times. I didn’t know what she was thinking. She just looked at me. It seemed that she had got something to say. However she was already incapacitated by the disease. Her suffering was like a knife, cutting me to the quick. The next morning I went to the hospital to buy the painkiller (a medicine that may reduce the pain), though it was so cold that morning. I knew most probably it was the last thing I could do for her on the earth. She kicked the bucket the next night. She lost her consciousness before the last moment came. Some liquid came out from her mouth. My sister wiped it away. Gradually we couldn’t feel her pulse. And then she departed, from the mundane world.

Now it is my grandfather’s turn. He is 90 years now. Before the Spring Festival I went back home to see him. He found it so difficult to support his body since he is both tall and heavy. For most of the time he was just sitting there and taking drowsy. He was unaware of his secretion even. Fortunately my third uncle was tending to him carefully.