On the day of my Grandfather's funeral, the place was swarming with dragonflies.
It was a great sight. It was as though all his old friends had come to welcome him into the netherworld.
I'd not cried throughout most of the funeral. But when I stood next to his coffin and thought back about all the memories we'd had together - eating asam laksa in the market, playing chinese chess in the living room, him trying to tell me a story about his younger days while I was trying to watch Star Trek, him letting me try some tody when I was a kid, him taking me to Fajar supermarket and me pestering him to buy me a toy, and most of all, his jolly smile - that the tears really rolled down.
He was the grandpa I always equated the word 'grandpa' to. And I'll miss him.
Rest in peace, Grandpa. And have fun.
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