17 September
This morning I taught at the local temple school. At one-thirty, it was time to leave and I asked Pi Nun to take me to Big C. I intended to see Kik briefly before catching the coach back to Bangkok. I was just saying goodbye to Kik when my mother rang to tell me that my grandmother had died peacefully in her sleep at lunch time.
Although she was nearly ninety and had died peacefully, it was still very sad news. She had been such a wonderful person with a great sense of humour and a heart of gold. Kik told me not to worry.
“Are you going to cry, Pi Ben? Well, you don’t need to. In Buddhism we know that everyone must die and your grandmother is very old so it’s ok. It’s only her body that’s dead. She’s going to go to a better place. My grandmother’s dying too. She’s in the hospital now. She just sleeps now. Soon she will die. It is the way.”
I thanked her for her concern. She nodded. “I will ring Gook and tell her the news,” she said.
“Don’t!” I said. My grandmother was very popular with my cousins. “She will cry. Let her mother or someone else tell her.”
“Don’t be silly! Of course she’s not going to cry!”
She opened her phone and dialed. “Hello Gook? Where are you? Yes, I’m with Pi Ben. Yes, he’s not going back to Bangkok today because, of course, his grandmother’s died…What? Yes, she’s just died. Didn’t you know? Hey, why are you crying…?”
She handed me the phone. “She’s crying!” she said.
I took the phone and put it to my ear. “Hello Gook,” I said somberly.
“Pi Ben!” wailed Gook at the other end. “Grandmother is dead! And I didn’t go to see her before she died! Ooooooh!”
I comforted her as best I could and then rang my lawyer student to cancel our lesson this evening. I returned to my grandmother’s house.
My grandmother was lying in her bed. Her body had already been washed and her hair combed neatly. She looked just as if she were asleep. Bending over her, it seemed incredible that she should be dead. Her face was serene and peaceful. I felt a sudden gratitude that she had gone so easily and painlessly in the home that she’d lived in all her life. So many people die young, in pain, far from their home and family.
She is the first dead person that I have ever seen.
Various relatives started to arrive to pay their respects to the dead. My grandmother had lived a long life and had been a popular figure in the community. Soon there were twenty or thirty people wandering about, chatting, arguing about the funeral, making food discussing what should be done.
In the evening, four monks came and chanted over the dead body while candles were lit and incense was burnt.
More people were still arriving. Tables were set up and laid outside the house by the river and everyone started eating and talking. Nong Varn told Bom not to whistle as it would “call the ghosts”. Laughter and loud talk rang out as relatives who had seen each other for years caught up on the latest news and gossip. A Thai funeral is a social event.
This morning I taught at the local temple school. At one-thirty, it was time to leave and I asked Pi Nun to take me to Big C. I intended to see Kik briefly before catching the coach back to Bangkok. I was just saying goodbye to Kik when my mother rang to tell me that my grandmother had died peacefully in her sleep at lunch time.
Although she was nearly ninety and had died peacefully, it was still very sad news. She had been such a wonderful person with a great sense of humour and a heart of gold. Kik told me not to worry.
“Are you going to cry, Pi Ben? Well, you don’t need to. In Buddhism we know that everyone must die and your grandmother is very old so it’s ok. It’s only her body that’s dead. She’s going to go to a better place. My grandmother’s dying too. She’s in the hospital now. She just sleeps now. Soon she will die. It is the way.”
I thanked her for her concern. She nodded. “I will ring Gook and tell her the news,” she said.
“Don’t!” I said. My grandmother was very popular with my cousins. “She will cry. Let her mother or someone else tell her.”
“Don’t be silly! Of course she’s not going to cry!”
She opened her phone and dialed. “Hello Gook? Where are you? Yes, I’m with Pi Ben. Yes, he’s not going back to Bangkok today because, of course, his grandmother’s died…What? Yes, she’s just died. Didn’t you know? Hey, why are you crying…?”
She handed me the phone. “She’s crying!” she said.
I took the phone and put it to my ear. “Hello Gook,” I said somberly.
“Pi Ben!” wailed Gook at the other end. “Grandmother is dead! And I didn’t go to see her before she died! Ooooooh!”
I comforted her as best I could and then rang my lawyer student to cancel our lesson this evening. I returned to my grandmother’s house.
My grandmother was lying in her bed. Her body had already been washed and her hair combed neatly. She looked just as if she were asleep. Bending over her, it seemed incredible that she should be dead. Her face was serene and peaceful. I felt a sudden gratitude that she had gone so easily and painlessly in the home that she’d lived in all her life. So many people die young, in pain, far from their home and family.
She is the first dead person that I have ever seen.
Various relatives started to arrive to pay their respects to the dead. My grandmother had lived a long life and had been a popular figure in the community. Soon there were twenty or thirty people wandering about, chatting, arguing about the funeral, making food discussing what should be done.
In the evening, four monks came and chanted over the dead body while candles were lit and incense was burnt.
More people were still arriving. Tables were set up and laid outside the house by the river and everyone started eating and talking. Nong Varn told Bom not to whistle as it would “call the ghosts”. Laughter and loud talk rang out as relatives who had seen each other for years caught up on the latest news and gossip. A Thai funeral is a social event.
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