As much as I love being informal, some things just can't be properly communicated unless you use proper grammar and clean language. This is also the first time I've written something like this before: it's definitely all over the place in terms of content, but this is just how I write.
Shanghai has been my second home for as long as I can remember. I think I was raised there for maybe the first four years of my life where I picked up Chinese, Shanghainese, all that before moving to the States. My fondest memories consist of time spent in this wonderful city going to malls, arcades, boba stores (though all of them have been replaced with godforsaken coffee shops), that kinda stuff.
Though if you asked me what the absolute best part of going back to this place is, it would undoubtedly be my extended family. I was fortunate enough to spend time with all four of my grandparents when I was young, though my grandmother on my mom's side is now no longer with us, rest her soul. When I was young, I couldn't even begin to understand concepts like health problems and death and all that.
I thought I was going to be a kid forever. Every summer I would go through the last day of school, and June & July would be filled with time spent with my wonderful grandparents.
Now I know better. It's been four whole years since I last came back due to the pandemic. This time, among the many visits to malls and restaurants was somewhere new: a hospital. This week my grandpa on my mom's side (I'll refer to him with the chinese term 外公, or Waigong) had an operation on his knee and had to live there for five days. The days leading up to the surgery, I just couldn't stop wondering if he would still be fine after the surgery despite countless reassurances from my mom and aunt.
On Tuesday I visited him with my mom right after the surgery. To see my Waigong, anyone for that matter to be honest, reduced to nothing more than a body strapped to a gurney was sobering, to say the least. He was still sleepy from the anesthesia, but thankfully over the day he became more awake. I stayed with him for the entire afternoon until I went home for dinner, and then the next few days as well. My grandpa on my dad's side (爷爷, or Yeye) has also had a recent surgery. These days, he can just barely walk around the house, and he needs a wheelchair to go outside.
Ever since this progressive decline in my grandparents' health, I've been constantly worrying about the day one of them leave this world. That fateful day in the future when they don't wake up.
Would I be there?
Would my parents be there?
How would I be contacted of the news?
Would the death be slow or quick?
Soon enough, my mind wanders to the day I inevitably join them in heaven (even though we all know I'm probably going to hell). Do all my accomplishments matter if I'm not there to witness them? Does anything matters? After all, it's dust to dust, ashes to ashes.
These thoughts can interrupt me at any time. I can be lying in bed, eating breakfast, or even gaming at the arcade. Thinking of this, I'm reminded of that recent Puss in Boots movie. Whenever the main character, Puss, is chased by the embodiment of Death, he freezes, his hairs stand up, and he turns back to face his imminent end. I knew some characters were made to be relatable, but never had I thought one would be relatable in this manner.
Am I a bad person for thinking about this?
Maybe. Probably, even.
But even so, I just can't suppress them. I can rid them temporarily with enough internet and coding, but all the anime girls and games in the world can't permanently suppress these morbid thoughts.
What if it wasn't the end that matters, though? Imagine if your favorite TV show never ended. You'd never get any closure! There's always another episode, another season, another story arc.
Maybe instead of being the thing that takes meaning away from life, it's the thing that gives life its meaning.
I treasure the days I spend with my grandparents precisely because I know they are limited. If they really did live forever, all our loved ones never aged, would we still love each other as we do in our current state?
I doubt it.
On a YouTube video about Rengoku from Demon Slayer, I read a comment saying that he says "Tasty!" after every bite because samurai were taught to treasure every meal as it could always be their last. It's clear that this advice applies to much more than just simply food.
god this was cringe jfc