I didn't expect to be writing two emotional blogs back to back, without a shitpost in between. A couple weeks
ago I caught the norovirus, which felt so bad I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I was so out of it for 3
days.
The week after that, I pulled up to school in full crossdress cosplay (I am a straight man) for a school event,
because it was funny. I might make a blog about that later.
A couple days after that, I learned my grandpa passed away. My mom has already returned to Taiwan for funeral
arrangements, among other things. My dad is going to fly there soon too, so I will be home alone with my sister
for a week or two.
When I got home and my dad told me the news, I had my airpods in full blast so I couldn't hear him the first
time. I was planning on dropping off my stuff and then going out for a run. After he told me though, I didn't
break down crying or anything like that. I sat down and ate some snacks while watching NBA highlights on my
phone for some reason. I kept thinking to myself in my head, “Man, are you serious? He won't be able to see me
graduate?”
Because you aren't supposed to run after you eat (it will feel awful), I went into the work room and decided to
lift weights. I do not lift weights often at all, I am the furthest thing from a bodybuilder or a regular
gym-goer. At home I only have 15 and 25 pound rusty dumbbells, but I think I just really wanted to move my body
or something. The first set in, I broke down. The realization that he wouldn't be there every year when I
visited anymore sucked. He would constantly blast the TV and I would hear very loud music early in the morning,
and that wouldn't be there anymore when I returned. He was quite healthy and I really thought he had another 10
years. My Ah-gong spoke mainly in the Taiwanese dialect, which is different from the way more common Mandarin
Chinese that I speak. He does speak Mandarin Chinese, but it's not his preferred language. I thought I had more
time, and I was going to learn Taiwanese so I could speak to him in his preferred language.
I really wished that I could cut school and just fly back as well. For the days after, all I felt was anxious
and blandness. It was uncanny that life was continuing on without a care in the world. I still went to school, I
talked with my friends, even hung out to go see my friends play in a volleyball game. I called my friends and
played video games with them. I still had fun. But then I would leave call and remember, and the anxiety would
set in. I would be laughing, then remember, and then I didn't want to laugh anymore. It's like I'm not allowed
to. I wanted to tell someone badly so I could be sad with someone, but I don't want to tell anyone because how
exactly can you go about that? I don't want people to make anything awkward, I don't want to burden anyone with
my grievances. I only told one person, and he took it well and was very compassionate, but there was at least 10
seconds of silence in the conversation afterward.
The main reason I'm writing this is because I want to write my emotions out about this. I couldn't tell anyone,
but talking to the wall is way easier. I don't write because I need someone to read it. There's an off-chance
one of my friends will read this, but it's better to know that they don't need to respond; compared to if I
directly told them and they would need to calculate their words of kindness and compassion that I know they
have. A complete stranger may read this and if they do, maybe they are going through the same thing, and find
solace in my feelings.
I was going to go on a trip with my friends this spring break, but my dad told me I wouldn't be able to go for a
combination of reasons, one being that you aren't supposed to travel for a vacation after a loved one's death.
My family isn't very religious (buddhism isn't very strict regardless) but usually during times like these we
follow Buddhist traditions way more closely. I'm not even very upset about it too, I feel as if it would be
wrong to go and have fun on a big group vacation when I'm still grieving. Some other reasons involve the fact my
parents will still be in/returning from Taiwan, or that my sister wants to go on a vacation to see her boyfriend
across the country that both my parents are very hesitant about. And it would not make her happy if my parents
let me go on that trip while not letting my sister go on hers.
I don't think going back will ever be the same for me ever again. A home without Ah-gong would be really quiet.
He was good at cooking too, that's where my mom gets her mastery from. He had so many friends, he was so
popular. My mom says many people come visit the altar they have up for him. He was very caring, I remember when
he would drive me around in his motorcycle and then buy me toys at the night market. I remember he always wakes
up at 5-6 am to go out on walks. He was a very hard worker from the beginning, he was an OG selling milk and
bubble tea back then. There were a lot of hardships for him, and in my opinion he was too kind letting certain
things slide. Apparently he looked like a gangster. My uncle found photos of him when the family went to Japan
back in the 80s and I can't even lie, he really did look like a gangster, he even had that long haircut.
I remember, last year at the end of August, when we were getting in the car heading to the airport to return to
the US, through the window I saw him scrunch up his face, about to cry that we were leaving. He turned around to
hide it, because he's a strong man that can't show weakness, at least this was the mindset he grew up with. I
didn't know that would be the last time I would see him, but I'm glad the last time I saw him, I saw just how
much he cared about us.
Currently listening to: 突然好想你