I really don’t have much to say. I just want to write, but not write creatively. I think I’ll just try to clear my mind of some things and ramble for a bit.

Lately, I’ve been giving some advice to some of my cousins. One in particular. He’s having girl problems, and he’s just running some things pass me. Now I would like to think I give good advice, cause most of the time I do. I just go by common sense and my gut feeling, that is sound enough for me to follow. But should you really take my advice, especially when it comes to the matters of the heart? When it comes to love or relationships?

First off when it comes to love and girls, common sense doesn’t work. Girls are incomprehensible beings. Second off, should I really be the one to come to with this kind of stuff? Look at my track record. No relationship and multiple broken/shattered hearts. No, I don’t think I’m the right guy to go to. But the advice I give does sound good. It is advice I should actually take myself. But when have anyone ever taken their own advice. Not ever.

So I’m givng him some sound advice. Whether he’s going to follow it or not, I’m not sure. But here’s to hoping it works out good for him. If it backfires, oh, what fun will that be. Sometimes I notice my advice to be a little malicious at times. What can I say, I’m a bitter bitter old man. He want to fuck with his ex’s mind, I told him he shouldn’t, but I’m urging him on. He should do it. Fuck with her mind. It’s like a experiment folks. I nudge him a little here and a little there and then he’s off. I just sit back and wait for the results. We’ll see how things go. It brings a little excitement in my life. I think I’m just going to live vicariously through other people for the time being.

Lately I’ve been thinking about my grandmother. I really miss her. I loved her so much. She always seem to manage to put a smile on my face. I can’t believe that I forgot to put her on my list of things that made me happy.

She raised me, she watched me grow up. She’s a joker, yes she is. When times were tough, especially in highschool, she can always put a smile on my face. We would thumb wrestle and I would always joke around with her. She’s the sweetest.

Her last couple years were tough on her, on the family, and me especially. I knew it was time for her to go, but I didn’t want to let go. Even when she says things like it’s time for her to go, or that she wants to go, I’ll always tell her not to say things like that. I never wanted her to go anywhere.

The last two or three years of her life were spent in and out of hospitals and nursing homes. Seeing the way she was when she was in the hospital, hanging between the lines was really tough on me. I couldn’t keep myself together. I will go visit her anytime I get. I’ll sit with her, talk with her, try to get her to eat. Even then, she will be joking with me, with us.

I still remember one night back in highschool, I heard my grandmother get up and walked out of her room. It was late. I never heard her go back into her room. I went out to see where she was and found her sitting on the couch. She was having problems breathing; she didn’t feel well. My eyes started to tear up already. The thought of losing her, I couldn’t take it. I sat with her for a couple hours, just keeping her company, trying to convince her to let me take her to the hospital, or to get my dad to take her to the hospital. She was stubborn. So we just sat there in the dead of night, in the dark. Finally she said okay. So I went to my parents room and knocked and told them my grandmother wasn’t feeling well. I was in tears by then, and my parents jumped out of bed.

My dad sat with my grandmother for a while. For some reason, I do not remember, I went back to bed. My dad stayed with her out there until morning. It wasn’t until morning that my dad took her to the hospital. She was admitted for about a week.

There were other times like these later on. When she was in the nursing homes. One night I got a call from my uncle saying he got a call from the nursing home. My grandmother wasn’t feeling well. Since the nursing home was just a few blocks away, he called and I went. There was some pain at her side. My chinese isn’t that great, so translating was difficult. The nurse gave her some pain killers. I sat with her for a few more hours, watching her sleep, talking to her. Just being there with her. She’ll wakeup from time to time and tell me to go home, and I just tell her to go back to sleep. Eventually I did go home when I felt that she would be all right.

My dad would go and see her everyday. He would make my grandma a cup of coffee and bring it to her before he went to work. Out of all of us, he saw her the most while she was in the hospital and the nursing home. He loved her very much. He loved my grandparents very much.

I still remember when my grandmother first got sick and was going to a nursing home, my dad tried so hard to have her not be put in there. We tried for my uncle to watch her, but it just didn’t work out. She ended back in the nursing home until she got better. Then my dad took her back home again.

Things were better with her home. I will always get her dinner ready whenever I am home, and get her medications for her. If I ever forget, she will always point to her mouth, and I will know. She was so much happier at home. Then one day, she would never come back. She died in a nursing home like my grandfather did.

My grandfather died almost 2 years before she did. They were both 86.

She was one of the reasons why it was tough for me to move down. I felt like I was abandoning her in a way. I’m sure she would have wanted me to move down, to do what I want and be happy, But for me it was tough to leave her. But I did.

It was tough to see her the way she was. She was lonely in a very disturbing place, just waiting to die. She was drugged up half the time, high as a kite. She was never really herself. She would always be tired, eyes gazing out to nowhere. Sometimes she won’t even talk, she’ll just look at you and it seems like she’s trying to put a name to the face she sees. It is just very difficult to see some one you love be like that. My brother told me she’s gotten worse after she fell and broke her hip at the hospital. He told me she would be talking crazy sometimes, laughing hysterically for no reason at all. It’s the drugs.

Like everyone else, I was hoping that she would go soon. As much as I don’t want to see her go, I think it would be better. It was her time, and it was something that she wanted. I wasn’t there when she passed.

Thinking back on that day, October 27th, 2001, I remember I was taking a nap in the afternoon. It was a Sunday. My grandmother passed away around 4:30 in the afternoon. I started my nap around two and I woke up around 4:30. Maybe it was just coincidence that I woke up around the time she passed, or maybe there was just a connection. Of course I didn’t know what happened; it wasn’t until recently that I just put two and two together. Hindsight is 20/20. But I would like to think that it was a connection.

I didn’t know what happened until 9 that night. I got a call from my cousin, not my parents, but my cousin from Fresno. She called me and told me what happened and what the plans are. My dad didn’t call me until 10:30. I was so angry at him for not telling me sooner. I was so angry. I thought I had the right to know sooner, and I thought I would have heard it from him first. But it didn’t happen that way.

I know that there were many things to take care of after her death, but I just thought I should have known sooner. Even when my cousin explained it to me that my dad was busy taking care of her death, he just simply forgot, he simply just didn’t have time to call me. I still felt angry. I was foolish, and selfish.

Stephanie said I should talk to my dad about how I felt about that. You see, our family isn’t very open when it comes to sharing feelings. While up there for the funeral, I tried, but it didn’t work. It didn’t feel right. I felt scared, and I just let things go. And my anger went away. It went away.