cinderella's last chapter

on looking through old posts, i realised that i didn't blog about the last chapter of cinderella's story. i did pen it down somewhere, i think, or maybe my cheese-holed brain is deluding me once again. however, all that is not important.

cinderella left us somewhere in the early days of 2013. by the second half of 2012, cindy has forgotten most of us. i talked to her, but i receive no acknowledgement whatsoever. she was past the stage of mistaking me for someone else. way past the stage of calling out my name. way way past the stage when her eyes lit up because she recognised me. her shell was there without a soul. she remembered her eldest daughter though, and that was enough consolation for us all, or was it enough for just me.

towards the end of 2012, she was doing poorly. wasting away because she didn't eat, i was told. laid in bed all day. which was what i didn't understand. i could never understand and hopefully i would never understand. how can they let her not eat? diluted congee, watery porridge, nutritional drink, whatever to give her sustenance. one spoon at a time if it comes to that. at the very least admit her into a hospital. they would have hooked her up to a drip and found out what was wrong. if that was not a red flag, i don't know what is. however, i cannot be quick to judge. i was not there. i only believed those things were not done from what i hear and what see. perhaps there had been more. i hope there had been more. i watched her slip away with my very own eyes.

they wanted her to hang on for her granddaughter's wedding. whether it was to see one of her grand-daughter get married, or whether it was to avoid the how-many-years-cannot-get-married-after-a-funeral i do not profess to know. she was admitted into the hospital during the last few days. the doctor said something of her condition, which i cannot recollect accurately now because i have let it go. something about her colon blocked for too long, and then burst, releasing all the excrement within her body, and subsequently infection within her body. her body, without nourishment, was too weak to function properly. i remember the anger i felt, yet i could not let it show. who am i to get angry when her children are so nonchalant? is there such a thing as living too long and being too old?

she was there for the wedding. she drank the tea. then she went back to the hospital while they continued with part two of the wedding in east malaysia. she died the next day, and they didn't return home until after the wedding.

i can't judge. i am not her child. i felt she wasn't loved and she didn't lived in love. for all her stories and her life long lived, cinderella's story wasn't a happy one. i don't know if it she didn't do enough giving in her lifetime, hence she didn't receive enough or perhaps she did receive love, but it wasn't displayed in the usual way for bystanders like me to see. yet that can't be true, i keep telling myself. she brought them all up, her children, her grandchildren. she spoilt them with a little bit of money when she could. they grew up with her. she was so close to them. but i didn't see them cry. i didn't see them stay in the hospital for hours and hours long. i didn't see them visit her when she was healthier, or when she was sicker. i didn't see them buy things for her. perhaps they did. maybe i just didn't see it.

i adored her, but it wasn't the type of love that made me die a little when she passed. she was never in my life much and i never knew the real her. i loved her the best i could and i was there the best i could. was that how it was with the others? just that the level they could afford to give back was lesser, yet they gave all they could have?

she is six feet underground now. i didn't go back for her one year anniversary, but they all did. i think it hardly matters now since she isn't around to see it or feel it. i don't see the need to show to those surviving. i loved her as much as i could when she was here.

writing this, it is the first time i am crying since her death. i didn't cry when they told me she died. i didn't cry during the funeral. i didn't cry when i saw them lower her into the grave. i never told you, but i miss you. i miss our lunches and dinners. i miss our chats. i miss your visits. i miss hearing your voice.

i wonder if anybody else remembers.