" He's gone, confirm."

"6 months to a year", the doc said. after a few days, he told us "About 3 months left". Crap, the cancerous cells have attacked his lungs quicker than i had expected. His dwindling days saw random people streaming in and out of the ward while he was in a coma, relying on tubes and machines to breathe. Every day i wake up thinking, "Is today the day?" Yes, yesterday was the day his breathing stopped.

Heading to the funeral later in my grey jeans.
Dress dark, the chinese say.

There is nothing more scary than seeing your entire family, of about sixteen parents and more than a dozen grandchildren, gathering together for the funeral. Gatherings large-scale like this were supposed to be for happy events, like Christmas or New Year.

Suddenly everybody's crying and everybody's offering joss sticks.