I don't even remember his face.
All I know is that he was my mother's father.
So I suppose in a way, that makes me better off than most people. I didn't have to live the pain of watching him die, or cry my eyes out the day afterwards.
But that only makes it hurt more.
I never got to see him much because he lives in Thailand, the place where my mother was born.
He divorced my Grandmother a long time ago, so we never see him when we visit her.
I don't even know if I've ever seen him before.
On summer holidays we only spend 3 weeks in Thailand, most of which is spent getting our lives on track. Then there is time spent visiting Grandma, and going to the beach as well.
Plus he lives quite far from our apartment.
Perhaps if he were still alive I could see him. Find out who he was, about his life...
Because my family is complicated. Very complicated. I only found out the truth about my father's half, and still my mother's half is shrouded in a mist of mystery.
But Grandfather is gone now, so there is nothing I can do but say goodbye, and rest in peace.
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