For She Who Laughed Most

Today was the funeral for the old lady who, in my memories, smiled all the time.

Every time we visited her, she was energetic, lively, laughing at everything. It never occurred to me she would leave us so soon. She seemed so healthy, vigilant in living her life.

But when I saw her lifeless body, I knew she was gone. Her skin was waxy, totally without the flush of flowing blood. Her eyes were closed, as if in a deep slumber, and as it was, this slumber will last...forever.

There was endless streams of chants, rituals, bowing and kneeling. Everyone was here today. Some people talked quietly in a corner, some teared, a particularly annoying Encik made stupid jokes about this funeral. I could tell, from their expressions, a few people would dearly like to punch him in his face.

It was really, really, really hot. It shouldn't matter, but it's so hot it hurts. I could feel beads of perspiration follow the contours of my face down my cheeks, gliding down my back. The baked ground emanated so much heat I could feel the warmth against my shoes. I didn't complain. It didn't seem right to make a fuss. Right now, that dear old lady could never ever feel anything again.

More chanting, more kneeling. Flowers were handed around to be thrown into her grave. Paper money for the dead were piled in a corner, waiting to be burnt. I could hear people sobbing, I could also hear kids laughing and running around. They didn't know her well enough to feel sad yet, they didn't understand she's not coming back.

Back then, someone-- her cousin or sister, don't know which-- cried hysterically beside her coffin. I heard later from my dad that the two old women hadn't been on speaking terms, they were forever quarreling for something or another. I wondered if she regretted it. Judging by her tearful face, I'd say she did.

During the Chinese New Year next year, there will be one less person we're visiting.

She lived a long full life, have tens and tens of children and grandchildren, and she laughed all the way. Sad that I was, I couldn't bring myself to feel grief for her departure to a new dimension. Perhaps there is an afterlife, and there, she would continue smiling her vibrant, sunny smile.

致姑婆，陈亚水。