Last winter, after my mother and I came back home, my father told me my maternal grandfather had passed. The two of them held on to one another and started crying, I went and pulled back the drapes, saw that it was snowing, the trees, and the small pond outside, are slowly, buried over, by the snowflakes. I didn’t cry, I didn’t even show any inkling of painful emotion, my maternal grandfather’s death just gently fell onto my heart is all. Toward my parents’ questioning gazes, I too, couldn’t understand why I lacked the proper reactions, I just don’t feel anything, toward my family members’ death.
After a few days, my aunts and my parents, and I went to visit my maternal grandfather’s burial site. Before we left, my mother told me, “Do remember to cry.” I thought, that as I’d approached my grandfather’s grave, I would surely start to wail out loud, but, as I saw the snow, covering over too many gravesites, I didn’t know how to move my emotions, I thought it was weird too, because, just like a singer who’s lost her voice, because I’d always had the reputations of a crybaby.
On the way home, the snow slowly melted away. “Melted away”, such a warm phrase, as if the spring’s come, the flowers woke, it also seems like forgiveness too. But, snowing isn’t cold, the melting of the snow is the coldest. Standing outside my front door, the snow around me gave off that chill now, they’re loosening up, falling down, but, my moods, very even, even more so than the snow.
The coldness of the snow, came a bit too late, I’d thought to myself.
This May, on the way home from school, there was a ten minute walk from the bus stop to my house. The roadside was covered with green trees, and the rays of the sun were cut by the leaves, and scattered all over the ground, there were yellow fruits that’s fallen, and the fruits were crushed by the pedestrians, and the flesh were baked by the sun, to give off of an intoxicating aroma. That scent hit my nose, I couldn’t block it out even if I’d held my breaths. A little further along, I’d felt, that the scent had become too familiar to me.
A decade ago, when I was eating at my maternal grandparents’ place, because I got too thirsty, I’d accidentally drunk my grandfather’s white wine by mistake. The taste was spicy and hot, and I was only eight, or nine, maybe.
And, a surge of uncontrollably emotion hit me, all of a sudden, and I just froze. I stood in the passageway into the trees, next to the piles of fruits that had fallen off the trees, picking up those memories, about my maternal grandfather. On and off, on and off, I’d collected his voice and his smiles one by one, and, my tears came to me, uncontrollably, like how when someone, pouring tea failed to realize that the cups are already full.
This grief, came five month late.
The tears that were supposed to have fallen back last winter, had kept themselves hidden inside of me for five months!
The snow that should’ve been melted down completely last winter, until that day, I’d finally gotten in touch with that scent of chill deep down inside.
Actually, I’d had reacted emotionally late for a very long time, and it took me forever, to finally realize this about myself.
My elementary school, my middle school graduations, as my classmates exchanged their contacts and held onto one another and cried, I became like a member of the audience, watching a movie, the kind that’s NOT paying enough attention to the movies. And still, a few months, or a few years later, their faces would come back up again. Even I wasn’t aware, that I too, cared about the time we shared together. And the sense of loss that came after the partings, would stick to my heart awhile, after some time.
Just like the “Dreams of the Red Mansion”, as I’d read it when I was still younger, I’d just felt that the male character was a harlot, and there was a hint of unspoken sorrow in the female main character, another character knows the ways with people. The scene was very active at the beginning, but later, the place fell. Decades later, I’d finally come to understand, that the male main character is actually a one-woman-man, and the female lead had already made up her mind, in accompanying the man she loved, behind the second leading lady’s smiles, is a toughness that was comparable to that of a man’s toughness.
The belated “snow melt”, maybe, it’s a way, to come full circle for me.
And so, for whatever reason there may have been, you’d delayed your emotional response to things you encounter, and that, is still NOT wrong or bad, it’s just how you are “pre-wired” is all, but still, that can be troublesome, because if you’d experienced this delay in emotional response always, then, you couldn’t act appropriately at the moments you were required to.