Goodbye, grandma.

At 5:20pm on Thursday, the twentieth of August 2015, my grandma breathed her last and moved on from this earth. I was there to watch her take her final gasp of air. My heart was thudding incredibly fast as we all waited for her to take her next breath. There was none. Her lips stopped moving and silence rang through her own room. At least her wish was fulfilled: she passed away in her own bed.

This post is written to celebrate the life of my grandma, the person I call Mama. She was a strong person, undefeated in all of life's obstacles, coming out in triumph at the end. She was loving, kind, generous, so much so that she was friends with everybody. She gave, and gave, and gave, like the most selfless person on earth. She was thoughtful. She was goodhearted. She was all-round amazing.

Mama had a wonderful sense of humour. I remember once we were at a fancy international buffet for Mother's Day, and I wasn't sitting at her table. I was sitting with my brother. She casually walked over, and whispered to both of us with a smile, 'Make sure you eat as much of these expensive food as you can, because it's not going to fill your stomach at all,' then casually walked away. I remember one time she put on an oversized hoodie with a crazy hardcore symbol on the front, raised her hands, formed her hands into the metal sign, and asked for a photo to be taken. I remember one time during our annual Christmas party, she wore my cousin's belly dance skirt and started belly dancing in front of all of us, sending us into fits of laughter. My aunts, uncles and father all have a wacky sense of humour, and I see they all got it from their mother.

To the rest of my family: during this time we will go through much grief. We will eventually carry on with our lives, but occasionally a pang will hit us so hard, our hearts will physically hurt. But we will be strong together, and we will be there for each other. Let's continue gathering regularly and strengthen the bond we already have. And let's all remember that Mama will forever be in our hearts, and that we will forever be in hers. She loves us very much, and she still does, right there in heaven watching over us being one big, happy family.

Mama, we love you, we will miss you very very much. Thank you for every single thing you have done for this family, because without you, we would all turn out very differently. I thank God for you because you have been such a blessing in our lives. I'm sorry if I never spent as much time with you as you wanted, but know that deep down I love you very, very much.

Mama, I'm graduating college this Saturday. I appreciate how every single year you attend my primary school awards day and also my high school graduation. This will be the first time you are not there to watch me go on stage for my academic achievements. I hope that wherever you are, you will see me and I will make you proud.

Goodbye, grandma, and see you again one day.

It beeps.

She is peppered with questions and told the most unrelated things. The time now is seven at night, it didn't rain today, your heartbeat looks good, you're going home soon, today is Monday. She nods every time, but says nothing. 

She gets asked a question. She nods yes. She gets asked another one. She shakes her head no. Then an open-ended question comes her way. She doesn't nod or shake her head...because she wants to answer. She gestures to the plastic piece of equipment covering her mouth. She wants it removed. 

The family members ask for permission from the staff. Her mask comes off for a moment or two. The question comes again. Her lips move, her tongue shows, but there is no voice. The conversation continues in silence. The family is left guessing, helpless and desperate. 

She wants to speak. She uses her fingers. She moves her hands. Her eyes dart around restlessly as she tries to get her family to understand what she said. Her children stare, clueless. They try to provide helping words. The words only bring more helplessness. She shakes her head no. 

My heart aches. Where is her voice? What is she trying to say? Her mind must be cluttered, clouded, fatigued. She wants to speak to her children, her children cannot hear. She wants to speak to her children, her children do not understand. She wants to speak to her children... But the only sound we hear comes from a cold, lifeless machine. It beeps.

Period-shaming.

A recent post about a free-bleeding woman running a marathon has been viral. People everywhere are sharing this post all over their social media pages, and there has been mostly positive, encouraging words like, "Wow, she's so brave!" or "That's right! There is nothing to be shameful about periods."

First off, let me establish here that period-shaming is ultimately disgusting and uncivilized. The menstrual cycle is proof that women have an important process going on in their bodies to enable reproduction to happen. This in itself shows that women are, in fact, powerful and should therefore not be shamed for having periods.

Things like carrying sanitary pads/tampons or even mentioning the word 'period' can cause social discomfort, not to mention seeing a blood stain on the back of a girl's pants being completely taboo. This is all caused by culture. Periods should not be an embarrassing issue. The symptoms of PMS have been joked about: jokes about infamous mood swings are the ultimate stab at a girl's femininity. These are all unnecessary and totally uncalled for, but this is culture and that's how things are.

The weirdest thing, though, is the fact that free-bleeding is now a thing. Has feminism reached a point where a stand can only be made by jeopardizing your own hygiene? Is it really necessary to run a marathon, in full view, while bleeding through your pants? I see the good intentions, but I don't agree with the execution. Do you not feel uncomfortable? Doesn't it feel like you're wetting your pants? Okay, maybe you are truly daring enough to televise your courageous act, but have you not forgotten why women's hygiene supplies were invented in the first place? There are many women in third-world countries who are extremely grateful for the reusable pads they receive from healthcare organisations, and here you are, bleeding freely?

It makes me sound closed-minded and probably quite ignorant, but I see the free-bleeding movement as unnecessary. Not only does it put your own health at risk, it also soils public hygiene. I mean, what's the point of having clean chairs when all you're gonna do is bleed all over it? Doesn't sound too great to me.

Once again, let me say that period-shaming is offensive, degrading and pointless. But if you want to take a stand against it, preserve your own dignity, please. And don't dirty the chairs.