what if, maybe, goodbye

Its 1:56am as i'm writing this. I really must be nocturnal now, I feel most alert at night. It sure is quiet, so serene, almost tranquil. All i hear is the faint snoring of my Dad next door and the soft humming of my laptop.

I think one of the most horrid words in English would have to be the word maybe. Its such an inconspicuous word, half the time you don't even know what someone really means when they say it. Maybe, is a word I could probably live without. For the most part, I've lived my life telling myself maybe. "Maybe I wouldn't feel so bad if I did this..." I think we've all been conditioned to automatically think "maybe" when something goes wrong. How many times have you found yourself in remorse and said to yourself "maybe if i did this or that"?

If theres one thing I could do without in life, it would be the words "maybe" and "what if"... I'm sure we'd all be far better off if we just stopped using those terms. What if i spent more time with my grandfather before he died? It sort of makes me unhappy to dwell upon the past, the past wasn't exactly near perfect nor the most joyous of all occassions. I've always felt remorse for not spending nearly enough time with my grandfather, and it is clearly apparent that its already too late for remorse.

He wasn't a largely significant part of my life, he seemed like he was there for some brief moments... I don't think my Dad got along very well with his own father, they always seemed to be ever so distant. I was cleaning my grandfather's room after he had passed away, I found an old photo album... I discovered that he had several photographs of me and my sister. I felt my heart shatter into countless pieces, he had to quietly scavenge those photos just so he can have them. It makes me sad that things had to turn out that way...

I found myself spiralling into the deep abyss as I continued to ponder on the maybe's and what if's after he passed away. It was very difficult to come to terms with it. In fact, it took me well over a year to accept that truth. I held your hand, your frail and cold hand. Each and every day, I watched your life flicker away like a flame lacking oxygen. I watched the colour drain from your ancient face, I watched you fighting for every breath, I watched you cling onto the remnants of your life. And yet, I could do nothing for you but hold your hand.

I didn't want to say goodbye, I wanted another chance to get to know you. I thought this would be another birthday you'd celebrate with me. Goodbye really is one of the hardest words to say. Maybe I'd have preferred to have said good night instead. Death is one of the inevitable facts that we have to accept. I took me a year to realise something, a year too long in fact.

A person isn't really dead as long as they're remembered.