RIP

I know it's pretty awkward for me to post so many times in such a short period but I think I will not be doing justice to my late grandfather if my tribute is not penned by hand and only safekept in my heart.

My grandfather was a good man. He laboured hard and long throughout his life. He walked miles to begin work during the early hours of the morning. Even before sunrise, there he would be, pacing step after step to begin the daily rituals of his everyday life. He worked as a humble coffee-maker, who earned no more than we spend a month and spent less than we saved a month. I admired him for the fact that he didn't believe in the miracles of 'money'. Money was a foreign item to him, something profane and strange because he said it turned good people into bad people. True enough, living up to his words and testimony, he hardly spent in his life except to purchase the little necessities of life. I used to think he was wierd.


But I loved him.



Often we would visit him, mostly on Sundays to accompany him as he lived on his own. His apartment was no bigger than the compounds of most houses but still, he lived in simplicity. He tasted no luxury and wanted no fortune. His only wish was to live happily. As a grandson, I failed my duty to be able to love him and care for him as a grandson should. I couldn't speak with him as language was a barrier between us and I couldn't express how much I love him as my words would simply go to waste.



But I loved him.



My mother used to tell me long stories of how life was with him. He gave her a good spanking when she failed to accomplish her household chores and family commitments. He always said, "you'll appreciate my beatings when you're older" and true enough, the woman my mother turned out to be is indeed a miraculous work of tears, sweat, blood and patience. But I never knew too much about him. The man whom I called grandfather was just another person whom I barely knew.



But I loved him.



Oh how I wish I knew him better. I wish I knew what he used to look like or what his favourite food was. I wish I knew the joy he felt in his life and pain he suffered during his trials. I wish I could be there for him when he needed someone. I wish I did all those things which I wanted to do. I didn't. I can't


But I loved him.



Closing my testament to his long and fruitful life, I would like to say this.

You will never know how much you really love someone, until you have lost him.

my beloved grandfather
1918-2009

I never said goodbye
I never said 'I love you'
to him.