060: The World Cup

Exactly four years ago, I watched the World Cup final with my family. We woke up at 3am airing here in Malaysia and was pretty much filled with excitement throughout the game. I spent the whole day in the hospital beside my grandfather who was at this point, in a coma. So although I didn't watch normal football nor did I watch any of the other matches of the World Cup, the final game was a good temporary escape from the emotional roller coaster of the past few days.

By the end of the match, I remember being happy. Although I, for the life of me, can't even remember who played the match and who won. I had a few minutes of shut eye before going to the hospital with my grandma again at 9am in the morning. My grandfather's state was critical and was dwindling by a line. During breakfast, I remember my grandma saying that the 50-50 chance of life has become 30-70. I don't know why - but at the time I thought 30% was optimistically good odds. As the morning went on, more and more people came to visit. I didn't realise it was to bid their final goodbyes. As my parents came into the hospital around noon, I was already so sleepy from last night's match. I decided to go home for a few hours to get some shut eye before coming back to the hospital.

I came home, switched on the TV to HBO and slept on the floor. The next moments in my memory was a blur. I woke up, looked at my phone. 3 miscalls from Mama. Picked up the phone and rang mama. And that's when she told me, in her crackled voice.

Embahyah had passed.

Until my family arrived at the house to pick up my grandfather's documents for the death certificate, I was alone in my big empty home coddling my grief. My chest hurt like it was stabbed multiple times with a knife.

I was in the hospital every minute; except Embahyah's final moments. If I didn't watch stupid football, I could have been awake enough to stay at the hospital to say goodbye. But as I entered his ward for the last time, I bid my goodbye a little too late. He was already ice cold when I held his hand.

As the final match of this year's World Cup arrives, I can feel nothing but intense hatred. It might have been that God knew that I couldn't physically cope seeing my beloved grandfather pass. But for now, in my eyes, football embodies everything I regret.