Greetings to Six Feet Under?
Last weekend, I bumped into my cousin at 313 & she asked me if I’m attending the upcoming family’s Qing Ming (saying hi to the dead) gathering. I told her no, I wasn’t even informed. Actually, it was more like me exclaiming “Heng (lucky)! Never ask me!”. Honestly, I feel deadened about Qing Ming. I don’t know of anyone who’s close to me not in this world. Lucky me!
Don’t mistake me. I sympathize my friends/family members who have lost their loved ones & I wish I could take away their pain. But to me, visiting a pile of obviously rotting flesh & maybe bones is kind of pointless. And I’m sure one of the reasons people visit graveyards is to talk to them? Like what I see in dramas & movies? Correct me if I’m wrong. But what if the soul isn’t at the graveyard but near you?? I’d like to think that they’re always close by to watch over me.
I remember being pulled to my paternal great grandmother’s funeral when I was a child. & I still remember trying to feel & look sad at her tombstone when they transported her coffin down into an empty hole. When it was my turn to say something, I couldn’t, even when I tried to copy the typical movie scene- of teary & emotionally speeches. I wasn’t even close to my great grandmother! What do you expect me to say/feel as a child who’ve seen her a few times?
The only thing I remembered about her was that she got her very black hair (not a strand of grey) till the age of 90+ (94?) by eating 2 eggs everyday. & that was what I reminded myself, mentally, while staring at her coffin & pretending to look sad.