Lessons from an ending.

Sitting here tonight with the whole family. 

It's quite an amazing thing for nearly all of us to be under one roof.

Whilst we've gathered at first in anguish and heartache to mourn our beloved grandpa, somehow in the course of six days, our pain has been transformed into a weirdly positive energy, now we've gathered to guard the last night of the week, to keep the lights on so he finds his way home and onwards, to celebrate our dearest grandfather's life and send him off well.

The past week has been a series of spasmic pain, cultural reawakening, remembered mannerisms, numerous family and friends visiting, gallons of tears, and at the end of it, moments that keep on taking my breath away.

Watching the bouquet of flowers grow and grow daily, overflowing to an incredible amount, learning about the traditions and formalities of writing such cards, pangs and pangs as I read card after card of well wishes from near and far. Growing to realise how well loved he was - anywhere he went. The number that have visited in the past week to pay their respects.

Listening to life lessons from the start of the century. Of a life so worthy of celebration. Of me - realising again and again what I realised so long ago, but the impact of the revelation never diminishes. How lucky I am to have the yuan fen to be born as grandpa's granddaughter. It's such an honour. Really. And something so worthy of striving for - all his virtues, values, the way he treated all who he came across, the outlook of life he had and how to live - surely, steadily, honourably, 

Having the family gather together for the first time in years. Jovial jokes, uncontrollable laughter, gentle chuckles, shared tears and understanding, remniscicing - again and again - and all the other moments between.

Yes, there will be a great deal of aftermath to slowly sift through. The pain is still there. When we have a quiet moment to ourselves, the tears still pool wordlessly. The quiet of the house we return to, the missing presence. A house feels different when the entire family is safe and sound, together under the same roof. It's different. We worry about the living, about the departed too - are they well? Where are they now? Are they watching us from above? Did they hear the words we whispered belatedly from thousands of miles away?

All these questions still remain.

But there's also been closure. Seeing his face, as though merely asleep. Observing traditions and doing all we can to ensure he is well to the best of our abilities in the afterlife.

Is this why we hold such rituals to heart?

Even if it ends up being nothing, the 'placebo effect' still works so well. Because we have been comforted to a massive extent now, at the end of this week.

Those we love never leave us - they're in our hearts all the time, they live on because we would not be who we are without them, because they live on in us.

Looking at my family now, in their various corners in this room - together, standing vigil for the last night. I feel both sad and happy.

Tonight - I'm going to focus on the positive. Looking at grandpa's smiling face, how could I not?

He is within all of us. His legacy does live on. His generosity, his compassion, his patience, his smile, his neverending love for us - we feel, even now.

音容宛在。