In Memory of My Grandmother

Yesterday, my maternal grandmother passed away. She was 76. She was a fiercely private person, so what I know of her past never came directly from her, but from my mom. My grandmother was born in Hong Kong and came to this country in the 1950s, when she married my grandfather. She had my mom in Hong Kong, but was unable to bring her with her, so she left my mom in the care of her own mother. Several years later, my mom would finally make it to America.

My grandmother spoke some English, but was most comfortable speaking Cantonese. She was a tiny woman with enormous force of will. Her way was the way. If you can imagine the might of Jerome "The Bus" Bettis in somebody the size of Eva Longoria, you would have my grandmother.

Growing up, I never understood how she remained so tiny, especially since whenever we had dinner with her (usually at a Chinese restaurant), she always seemed to pile her plate high with food. It was only when I was older that I noticed how she would sneakily siphon her food onto my grandfather's plate during the meal.

My grandmother wasn't an affectionate woman in the physical sense. She didn't do hugs. She would pat me on the shoulder now and then, but that was the extent of it. Her way of showing affection came in the form of shopping. We would often visit Mervyns or Gottschalks and she would insist I get something. If it was summer, she would insist I choose new t-shirts or shorts. And if I could convince her I didn't need them, she would insist I pick out a new sweater or jacket for the winter. If my sister or I continued to refuse, my grandmother would mention something to my mom in Cantonese. Then my mom would lecture us about showing respect and tell us to pick something.

My grandmother loved dogs and she owned four them in her life. Three of them were named Bunny (all females) and one was named Happy (a male). I never met Bunny I, but got to know Bunny II as a kid and Bunny III and Happy as a teenager. Since I'm allergic to dogs (and cats), Saturday visits to my grandparents meant hours of fun, as well as sneezing, watery eyes and difficulty breathing. To minimize my symptoms, I would be quarantined play on my grandparents' dog-free, rooftop patio (where they kept a table tennis table and miniature pool table).

A lot of my memories of my grandmother come from earlier in my life. Due to her advancing age and health issues (which she never shared in any detail), we saw less and less of her with each passing year. It wasn't that we didn't want to see her, but she would often refuse to be seen, as though she was ashamed to be in less than perfect health. Before this weekend, it had been nearly two years since I had last seen her.

I regret not being able to visit her more often, but I find a little consolation knowing that I was able to see her, thank her and tell her I loved her one last time before she left us. I also find comfort knowing she is no longer suffering or in pain. She and my grandfather are a big reason I am who I am and have what I have. I will miss her dearly.