This essay was written for my final assessment for Human Communication subject where we had to write on the Analysis of a Relationship. I think I wrote fairly well as I poured what I kept in mind for the past few years in this.
On 17 February in the year 1983, I was born into this world. The very same day my great grandfather ibu' Rangat, also known as a hero to the community then for his fighting spirit during the Japanese occupation in the 40's passed away. When I was first told of this when I was still a child by my grandfather ibu' Pudun, it didn't bother much of my emotions. But as I reached my teenage hood, it came across my mind again during my 17th birthday. It was then struck my mind that 17 years ago, the torch of the family was then passed to me from my great grand father.
Ibu Pudun or also known as James was sent to Australia for a teaching course by the British colony in the 60's and was fondly sharing about the family rich tradition background. My first contact with him was during one of our Christmas celebration. Since my family lived in Miri and both my grandparents in Lawas (45 minutes flight by twin-otter flight), I didn't get to see much of them except during the holidays. At that particular Christmas celebration, my grandfather was indeed happy to see all his grandchildren around. I was excited to see my cousins, and of course him.
My relationship with my grandfather was not as close as my other cousins, because I did not have the ample opportunity to spend time with him. And only during big family gatherings that I have the smallest chances to impress him with my communication skills. With the thought that he was my only grandfather around, it was already instilled in my mind that he was somebody I wanted to look up to.
As I grew and developed into a fine teenager, I was so curious of many things just like any teenager would do. And one of my biggest anxieties was to know more of my family background and this include knowing of my grandfather and his father and his father and so forth. During one of my school holidays, my parents sent me and my other siblings to go back and visit my grandparents. And this was when I had the involvement stage with my grandfather.
He was so proud to share of the family achievements. I never knew until that very day when he told me that my great grandfather was a heroic head hunter. He kills people for their heads. I was so disgusted when I heard it the first time, but to understand that it was an honorary job to do so during that time I then took it on the personal side. I was born in a family of heroes.
My grandfather was fond with his job. He was appointed by the British colonies then to be sent to Australia for a teaching course where upon his return he was to served the British government. My grandfather was the only 2 natives from the community who made that trip.
As I came back from my holidays, I instantly took pride of my grandfather and his endeavors. He was my hero then. As I knew that the next time I would be seeing him again was in months for Christmas again, I took the initiative to write him letters. We were pen pals for a while, and during that period I was embracing the love of a grandfather to his grandson as much as I could. I considered him as one of my best friend aside from my parents. There was once I had a difficulty to share with my mother on an issue, and I had to call all the way to my grandfather for comfort. And instead he took the front cover and consulted my mother. It was funny and I applaud for his generosity.
We were already the bestest friend and the envy of my other cousins, and during major family gatherings I would always have the honour to be with him. It was easy to find either one us. If anyone was to seek either one, it took only to find the other to spot one. And one most significant things I shared with him was that my grandfather had a big farm where he grew many animals and fruits and vegetables. My favorite was always the star fruit and whenever he knew that I was to come back with my parents, I would already expect a big basket filled with star fruits just for me. He scolded my aunt once for picking one fruit because he prepared them for me.
It was then I knew our love was great.
As days and months passes by, I have anxieties for the future. I was afraid to lose him as early as he was battling for cancer. My grandfather was a heavy smoker and drinker and with my parents and my uncles and aunties nagging to bid him to stop, he ignored them all. I was furious when I found out that he was not helping himself. And I remained to be an obedient grandson during his last days.
When his conditioned turned from bad to worse, my life I shared with him was put on the sideline. I lost a pen pal whom I could pour my feelings out, and I was beginning to lose sight of my hero capability. I assumed during the repairing stages of our lives, I visited my grandfather at home during the school break. I fed him, and brought him around for a morning walk every day. Although he couldn't speak much, I understood that whatever I said and shared was for him to hear. He acknowledges by smiling or just staring in my eyes to signal me that he understood every word I said. On that very last day of the school break, he knew I was leaving and it was all to be seen through his eyes. His tears rolled down his cheek when I gave him my salam as though we were not see each other again.
I couldn't cry because I was trying to hide my emotions as I was a man that he was going to pass the family torch to. All was secretly hidden in me. The emotion.
My grandfather passed away on the eve of 21st November 200, when I was only 17. Our relationship came to an end immediately he took his last breath at the hospital. But I considered our final separation a special one as I was the only one to see him then at the bedside. I still remember how our hands were gripped so tightly that only God knew the strength of his adrenaline pumped to mine.
I was completely blank for a few seconds until I realized that he has already left me for good. In that blinking seconds, the memory from the first day I acknowledged him as my heroic figure, the days of becoming my soul mate and friend, the moment he gives me the star fruits he had kept just for me came vividly through my mind. That was already enough to make me scream his name out loud and cried like a 2 year old boy as though his death was the end of all things.
The period until the funeral, I was only seated beside his casket. I was weak with no strength to notice what was going on then, but my mind was only thinking of him knowing that God was holding his hands to heaven.
Nearly 6 years down the line, I still remember his advices and words of wisdom. Where I stand today, was because of his contribution in preparing me to be a man of wisdom and a man of love.
