Memories of Old with My Grandparents 👴👵

I have been wanting to share about my paternal grandparents who played significant roles in my childhood days. Since my parents were both working, I basically grew up with my paternal grandparents as my caregivers or "babysitters". I have very fond memories of them which I think can be my tribute story to them. I would love to have this story be immortalized on this platform forever, if it is possible.

My grandpa is a Hakka Chinese from China who came to Nanyang, and to Kuching, Malaysia escaping from war at the age of 20. Hence, he was the first to start our clan here. He met my grandma during the war and got married to prevent her from being oppressed by the Japanese soldiers that time. After that, my eldest aunt was born in the war and they had several other children who did not survived before they had my dad.

Before my dad got married, they stayed in a Chinese village 22 miles away from the city. They operated a small coffee shop and did farming, planting vegetables to be sold as their living. After my dad got married with my mum, they moved out to the city with my dad.

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Growing up with them staying together, I called my grandpa "gong gong" (公公) and my grandma "nai nai"(奶奶) which means grandpa and grandma in Hakka dialect respectively. They called me "dang dee" as my little nickname which I believe meaning the little naughty one in Hakka dialect too.

_{I looked very boyish when I was younger, hence maybe that's why I got the nickname.}

We conversed in Hakka dialect and me being their eldest grandchild, can speak it quite fluently at that time. My two younger siblings can speak very minimal Hakka while my youngest sister cannot speak it at all. Maybe that was my advantage of having the most time with them.

What I remember about them

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My grandpa was a very tall and handsome (in my eyes) man. Weird enough, he is the only tall person in our family and his gene was never passed to ANY of us. That's rather sad for my brother who has always wished that he is tallER. My grandpa was a very outgoing person and coming from the village did not stop him to explore the city at all. He would go out by taking bus and came back with all sorts of goodies, mainly "forbidden" candies that my mum would not prefer for me to take, hehehehe. He cooked for the family every day. Despite already having gas stove that time, he insisted to use his kerosine stove still, sometimes. On the other hand, my grandma was a short woman who was very submissive to her husband. I remembered her warm embrace hugging me to nap everyday.

Besides that, together with my grandma, he turned a vacant land opposite our house into a vegetable and fruit farm, planting a huge varieties of homegrown goods. So much so, they managed to harvest it and went around the neighbourhood with baskets to sell the homegrown vegetables. They were quite famous in the place I stayed back then. I remember I would go near to my grandpa as he used the old fashion weighing scale to weigh the vegetables and disturbed him. Then he would go, "Dang Dee!!!!"

Despite being a man with few words, my grandpa showed his care for me in a way that is engraved in my heart. There was once I threw a bad tantrum when my cousins refused to play with me, I kicked the coffee table and my leg started bleeding. Without saying a word, he scooped me up and brought me to the toilet. He immediately tried to stop the bleeding by applying pressure. He later took out his antiseptic liquid, Dettol and started cleaning my wound. He repetitively did this every single day for two weeks for me until I got a bit "addicted" to his loving treatment that I would be bugging him everyday for this. That became my most memorable "bonus" though I got scolded by him for hurting myself because of a silly tantrum. As I am writing this, my heart still swelled even after two decades and I would tear up a little, still.

Grandpa Grew Older

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My grandpa had the habit of smoking when he was a young man and he contracted Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. He would cough badly at home. He experienced difficulty in breathing one day and my dad had to send him to the hospital. My dad later bought a Nebulizer to aid him in breathing at home. From then on, I realized the fear of losing him crept into me. I would quietly open his room door to check if he was still breathing especially when he was sleeping. I was not ready to let him go. After all, he was one that I experienced a lot of love from. When I saw his chest was still moving up and down, I would be in a relief and closed the door. Every time he coughed, I would panic a little, because I did not know what I could do to help him at all.

True enough, after admissions after admissions into the hospital, my mom broke the news that he passed on when I was 11 years old. I remember I was in school and she told me only after school. He was 85 years old. There was this mysterious happening when he went out to cut his hair at the barber shop by himself just two days before his passing. He even told my grandma to take care of herself, repetitively. No one told me this and I only learnt about it after he passed on. I held back my tears, because I was in the midst of a speech competition that time. I could even joked with my aunts as we were doing the wake service for him. I saw his body lied in the coffin in the middle of our hall, motionless. It was the first death I faced in my life and honestly, I did not know how to react. The day before his funeral was my competition and I tried my best to not be too affected. I went ahead with the competition and I got second prize. When it was his funeral the next day as I was sending him off, I cried like a baby. I couldn't believe he wouldn't be around anymore.

Taking Care of My Grandma

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My grandma seemed to lose her purpose after my grandpa passed away. She still tended the vegetable garden but I guess it made her miss my grandpa even more. She briefly told me she just couldn't manage the whole farm anymore. I remember I tried to help her pulling out some weeds to give her some support. However, I was also growing up with more tuition classes and the time I was home had reduced. I felt so sorry for leaving her alone.

One night, she fell in the toilet and she was never the same after that. She was admitted and operated. Somehow, her brain had liquid accumulated and it suppressed some of her nerves. Soon, she couldn't recognize me and it hurts big time. Nevertheless, my father employed an Indonesian maid to take care of her at home. I was 17. I remember holding her hand at her hospital bed, and I tried to tell her about the gospel, something I did not manage to do with my grandpa because I only accepted Jesus at 14. I shared with her in my limited Hakka and prayed for her. I am not sure if she understood though but I want to believe her spirit could be synced with mine at that moment.

I went off to college the following year and I still went home every semester break. I checked on her everytime I got back. She slimmed down tremendously and needed intense care from our maid. Because she no longer spoke much, one thing I did the most is holding her hand and rubbing them, hopefully she could still receive my love. When I was 19 and was coincidentally home for my break, she was eating her lunch when she got choked and went blue. Her maid panicked and I quickly called the ambulance. There was no answer on the emergency line and I kept calling, still on busy tone. I finally called my cousin and aunt. They came promptly and we sent her to the hospital, only to find her breathed her last, sadly. She was 80 years old.

Here's to no bias of religions or beliefs. My grandma's funeral was a Taoist funeral. Because of having difference in beliefs, I did not participate in their rituals but just silently paying my respect in my heart. I got a shock that in one of the rituals, the Taoist monk "communicated" with her and he said my grandma knew my heart, saying that she didn't mind. That made me CRIED because whether it was from her or not, it sent comfort to me that she gave her understanding and love that way.

Regrets with My Dearly Loved Grandparents

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I wish I could have done better for and with them, all the time. I wish I could have thanked them while they were still alive and be more expressive back then. I wish I shared the gospel with my grandpa earlier too. Even as I write this, I still sniff a bit. They were so essential to me in my growing up. After their passing, whenever I see the elderly on the road or when I visit the old folks home, I would easily tear too. They helped me develop a soft spot for the the elderly.

It is a shame I don't have many photos of them, especially after I have settled here in another part of Malaysia. I wish I took more photos with them. However, I can still remember their faces until today and they live in my memories.

I would want to say to them that I am GRATEFUL for the years I had them and I truly LOVE them! I am who I am today because they loved me and cared for me. I am blessed to have them in my growing up.

Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children. ~Alex Haley
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This is my entry for #tellyourstory2018 by @danieldoughty and also an entry for the writing contest by @bycoleman. Thank you for these two contests. They are like the tribute to them and closure for me as I have never opened up to talk about how thankful I am for them before.

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