Going down in a bit to my grandmother’s to help her sort out my late grandfather’s clothes. To give to the temple, I think she said. Don’t know how that will go down with the emotions even though I wasn’t close to the grandfather. Death still feels really strange.
We had dinner yesterday and it was one of those days my terrible Hokkien was at its worst. At times like that, I feel bad not to be able to bridge the gap, to allow Grandmother (who has always loved company) who feels afraid of growing old and moving out of the house she has lived in since 1966, some comfort in easy conversation. Thank God for the sociable sister-in-law who is used to having extended family close by :).
Grandmother is giving away stuff she can’t take with her. I brought back some ordinary “Made in China” white-pink bowls that we’ve drunk soup out of since we were children at Sunday gatherings. It was from those dinners that I developed my love for Chinese soups. And 2 turquoise-white bowls/pots with motifs distinct of a time.
My memories are of happy times – pounding leaves playing medicine shop and carrying lanterns in the garden – with the brother and cousins. I don’t think any of us can imagine how hard it must be for grandmother leaving the house with all its bittersweet memories. Her home for so many years..