My grandpa died
My grandfather died in the age of 77 due to pneumonia. He wasn't a perfect man, he wasn't a man of warm words and a kindness that I saw in other people's grandfathers. But at last, he showed some fondness towards my mum, my sisters and me. He was a part of my life, because he was always there. But we didn't really know him, he didn't really know us. There was always a wall between us. In the time when he was in hospital, so I was told, this wall began to crumble. But there was no time to tear down the wall completely. It was too late, he was taken away from us. I got the note from my sister while I was in Hong Kong. That was tough. I wished I could see him in hospital, say something like 'goodbye' to him. It just wasn't meant to be. I would just want to let him know: I liked him, despite sometimes saying otherwise in anger. I liked him and I'll miss him.
May he Rest In Peace.
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