Today marks a whole 10 years after our grandma first hit by a stroke.

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10 years ago we went for gravesites on QingMing festival at Kuala Lumpur. The tomb was where my great grandfather rests.

The gravesite had been the same since the 1940s’, yet that year one funny thing happened.

We placed our offerings on the wrong tomb.

Our greatgrand’s tombstone was a very simple rectagular stone standing up vertically. The wording on it had long been worn off by 70 or 80 years of sunshine and tropical rain.

So were the few others next to it.

We arrived at the tomb by 11am, it was already hot and we arranged the offering under umbrellas.

It was until we’re done all the procedures, burning joysticks, papers. I asked doubtfully:

“I feel like something’s not right. Is it possible we are in front of a wrong tomb?”

We had around 9 people that day. Everyone was stunt by my statement, and every agreed with me in one instant. Yes, our great grandfather was the one on the right.

We have spare food and joysticks, so we repeated the procedures this time with the right grave.

We couldn’t recognize the tomb even though we visit annually.

Grandma fall off the ground, without warning

After 5 minutes we’re done, my grandma fall down on the ground, she lied on the other grave all of sudden. I almost thought she was just sitting down too loudly. The grave was a piece of soft ground, she wasn’t hurt at all.

I need another 10 minutes to process something was wrong. Grandma didn’t talk, just stared to her front, and she couldn’t walk properly either. We helped her to the car. Again I thought she was exhausted by the heat and the fall.

By lunch, the image rising clearly. My grandma wasn’t chewing properly, saliva flowed our of the corner of her mouth uncontrobally. My hands were shaking as I fed my grandma for the first time in my life, because I didn’t know what to do. None of us knew it was a stroke, it would possibly go away in a few hours. That was the start of a 10 years stroke journey.

10 years now

We are still living peacefully.

My grandma now lives in the nursing home, and we visit everyday.

Author: Dona Liew