:: Elysium ::

Today. This day, last year.

My grandmother carassed his feet, swollen and useless, gently. "Jin,"she called him in the familiar, slightly commanding way. "Easy come easy go. Your children have grown up, and you have enjoyed your grandchildren long enough. They will take care of me. I want you to understand that you can go. You are in pain, and so are we. Easy come―" her voice cracked and tears came "―easy go." And that―his wife's permission―was his final call. He cried for the last time, his tears staining his sunken, weathered cheeks. Death closed its fingers around the room, its pale digits sad but firm, small in force but immeasurable in impact. His hand was still in mine. "Good bye, Gong gong." I said, smiling through my tears. And then my heart broke with loss.

My dear Marlboro man. I hope you're enjoying that stick of methol and that shot of whiskey in an elysium that is free of pain and our stupid human struggles. And there are times―when I'm on the brink of making a silly decision―I can almost imagine you slapping me across my head, the way you used to when I was a child, with tender exasperation and that paternal twinkle in your eye. I could never lose you, because you're in all of us.

公公，安息吧！