Better, and worse at the same time
I feel better because alot of things are happening. I'm not sure if I want to say this all out in public (even though no one reads it except me now), so ask me and maybe I shall say.
Things are much better now, and there's a reason to be happy.
I'm happy as long as the people around me are happy, and that's nice.
I visited my Grandma's this morning with Weng to have breakfast with her. She was very happy this time to see that it wasn't just me. I guess my problem is that when she gets depressed, I never quite know what to say.
She'd say: "Now I'm old and useless already, want to move around also must burden other people to help me. I depend on other people for everything, I don't want to be a burden to other people. I don't want to live so long."
I'd try to retort: "But you cannot say like that what. When we were all young, our parents took care of us, and raised us, and we depended on them. They didn't think that we shouldn't be alive then, so why should you now?"
But it was never quite enough. It would be followed by a long and uneasy silence, and it's happened for the past 3 breakfasts (excluding today). And I must say that although some of my friends seem to think that my love tank is always on full, it was very empty last saturday. Even though I did go to my Grandma's house both for lunch and dinner, I avoided her gaze and didn't attempt to talk to her, as I usually would. I didn't want to be put in the position where I didn't know what to say.
Today however, Weng's presence made breakfast alot more lively. We managed to make her laugh a couple of times, after which having stayed for an hour, she began once again on the "no point for me to live" and the "I'm useless" rhetoric. This time however, apart from reacting as I always did with the same weak defence, Weng decided to take a more proactive approach to change her mindset. He mentioned a friend's brother who died young in an accident, and that brought to mind that we could not really decide how long we could live, but we could choose to make the best of the time we had. That calmed her down abit, but there was still a sad doubt in her eyes, that once again broke my heart.
Now I'm hoping that I can make this a larger affair for my cousins, to visit her for breakfasts and let her know that we treasure her presence and her time left. I guess I should be glad that there's at least 2 of us, even though the rest of them have got school or work and other commitments, I'm always hoping that this could be something bigger.
When I cycled home, the rain seemed to reflect my brooding mood from breakfast. Perhaps it was the regret that I had not spent more time talking to her, especially since she was very fluent in English but I never exploited this ease of communication; I had to take Canto classes at NYU in order to communicate better with my Mom's parents (with limited improvement), something way more difficult.
My mind raced back to Randy Pausch and Morrie Schwartz. Two people that will be remembered for having embraced death, and to have possessed an unwavering commitment to humanity, to teach, instruct, and live till it proved (for Morrie) or proves (for Randy) impossible. If only my Grandma were like that! At least I always thought she would be, until i realised not too long ago that she was indeed human still, and one with a failing memory. She cannot keep track of days, or thoughts: She'll speak, stop midsentence, and just hang there trying to remember what she wants to say. I know I do that occasionally, but I'm quite convinced my mind is still in good shape.
I wish I knew enough to write a glowing tribute to my Grandma, that she could know how I hold her in the greatest esteem for managing to raise 9 Kids out of poverty into the middle and upper-middle class, for her wisdom in other things, and most of all, for keeping the family, no matter how extended, close. I would like her to be present at my wedding (if I ever get married), and to see my kids and stuff. But a weathered body at 84 years doesn't wait too long for things to happen. Things are happening of their own accord, and I do fear that these things that happen will take their toll on her fragile frame quickly.
As long as being there with her makes her smile, it makes me feel that it would all be worth it.
Things are much better now, and there's a reason to be happy.
I'm happy as long as the people around me are happy, and that's nice.
I visited my Grandma's this morning with Weng to have breakfast with her. She was very happy this time to see that it wasn't just me. I guess my problem is that when she gets depressed, I never quite know what to say.
She'd say: "Now I'm old and useless already, want to move around also must burden other people to help me. I depend on other people for everything, I don't want to be a burden to other people. I don't want to live so long."
I'd try to retort: "But you cannot say like that what. When we were all young, our parents took care of us, and raised us, and we depended on them. They didn't think that we shouldn't be alive then, so why should you now?"
But it was never quite enough. It would be followed by a long and uneasy silence, and it's happened for the past 3 breakfasts (excluding today). And I must say that although some of my friends seem to think that my love tank is always on full, it was very empty last saturday. Even though I did go to my Grandma's house both for lunch and dinner, I avoided her gaze and didn't attempt to talk to her, as I usually would. I didn't want to be put in the position where I didn't know what to say.
Today however, Weng's presence made breakfast alot more lively. We managed to make her laugh a couple of times, after which having stayed for an hour, she began once again on the "no point for me to live" and the "I'm useless" rhetoric. This time however, apart from reacting as I always did with the same weak defence, Weng decided to take a more proactive approach to change her mindset. He mentioned a friend's brother who died young in an accident, and that brought to mind that we could not really decide how long we could live, but we could choose to make the best of the time we had. That calmed her down abit, but there was still a sad doubt in her eyes, that once again broke my heart.
Now I'm hoping that I can make this a larger affair for my cousins, to visit her for breakfasts and let her know that we treasure her presence and her time left. I guess I should be glad that there's at least 2 of us, even though the rest of them have got school or work and other commitments, I'm always hoping that this could be something bigger.
When I cycled home, the rain seemed to reflect my brooding mood from breakfast. Perhaps it was the regret that I had not spent more time talking to her, especially since she was very fluent in English but I never exploited this ease of communication; I had to take Canto classes at NYU in order to communicate better with my Mom's parents (with limited improvement), something way more difficult.
My mind raced back to Randy Pausch and Morrie Schwartz. Two people that will be remembered for having embraced death, and to have possessed an unwavering commitment to humanity, to teach, instruct, and live till it proved (for Morrie) or proves (for Randy) impossible. If only my Grandma were like that! At least I always thought she would be, until i realised not too long ago that she was indeed human still, and one with a failing memory. She cannot keep track of days, or thoughts: She'll speak, stop midsentence, and just hang there trying to remember what she wants to say. I know I do that occasionally, but I'm quite convinced my mind is still in good shape.
I wish I knew enough to write a glowing tribute to my Grandma, that she could know how I hold her in the greatest esteem for managing to raise 9 Kids out of poverty into the middle and upper-middle class, for her wisdom in other things, and most of all, for keeping the family, no matter how extended, close. I would like her to be present at my wedding (if I ever get married), and to see my kids and stuff. But a weathered body at 84 years doesn't wait too long for things to happen. Things are happening of their own accord, and I do fear that these things that happen will take their toll on her fragile frame quickly.
As long as being there with her makes her smile, it makes me feel that it would all be worth it.