Grandpa passed on last night at 10.29pm.
We were all there to see him go.
As he took that final breath. As his heart pumped one last time.

His children and grandchildren were all around him, holding on to him,
feeling his crinkly, yet soft skin for one last time before he was pushed to the mortuary.

The doctors and nurses came in to disensemble all the machines that were once pierced into his frail body. These were the machines that kept him alive. But he could not sustain. The virus was just too strong.

We trailed along as they pushed him into the lift behind all the wards.
This was the lift that brought many other bodies into the mortuary.
We stepped into a chilled room and the wisp of stench (from the bodies that were stored behind many other doors) blew me away. But we had to bear on.

When they had finally replaced his blood with body liquid which would keep his body undecomposed for a few days, they pushed him out and we saw his pale, white face one more time.

And at that momment I realised, I would never get those wonderful days back. The days whereby he replies whenever I call him.

"gonggong"
"guai.."

He was weak, yet he stayed strong and fought his illness til his final deathbed.
We will be here, ah gong, we will be good.

I love you, grandpa.