Chloe

Ethan

Lilypie Second Birthday tickers

Monday, May 09, 2005

My grandmother passed away over the weekend. She was 96 years old. This was the grandmother who raised me when I was little as my parents were always busy working. She made breakfast for me and my brothers every morning before school. She made us snacks when we came home after school. She took me to the park. She favored me and sided with me every time I argued with my brothers. She slept in the same room with me all through my childhood and because of that, she was the one I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom with me as I was scared of the long dark hallway. Needless to say, I am saddened by her departure. But as sad as my family and I are about losing her, we also feel it is a relief for her. She had led a pretty harsh life. It just might be a good thing for her to move on to a better place.

My grandmother led a hardworking life from childhood up through her middle age. Her family was poor. She started working in the plantations at a very early age. Things didn’t improve much after she married my grandfather because he too was poor. They worked really hard to sustain life for the large family they made. My grandfather had two wives and together they had eight children. That was a lot of mouths to feed. One might think that my grandmother’s burden would have been eased from the help she should have gotten from my grandfather’s other wife. That wasn’t the case. My other grandmother was weak in a lot of ways – health, strength, personality. My grandmother had to care for her as if she was another dependent. To this day I’m still not clear whether my grandmother held any grudges towards her husband’s other wife. Back then in the villages, it was common for a man to have multiple wives. But still, it must not have been a happy affair for a woman to have to share her husband. For sure I know my elder uncles did not, and to this day still do not, like their stepmother nor their half-siblings. They shunned her for being a mistress and discriminated against their half-siblings as being “wild kids”, as illegitimate. Unlike her older brothers, my mother has a bigger heart. She respected her stepmother as she did her birth mother and treated her half-siblings as if they were from the same mother. I commend my mother for that.

Back to my grandmother who had led a hardworking life up until her middle age. As my grandfather’s health started to decline, my grandmother bore most of the burden of keeping the family together. The family’s economic condition started improving after my mother got married. My parents started to own businesses and money was starting to be less of a problem. Thus my grandmother was finally able to relax her responsibilities. Life was finally getting better, or at least easier, for her. From there she was able to live a calmer life of babysitting her grandchildren while her children worked to support the family.

Here I’m missing some pieces of the puzzle. I don’t know what my mother’s older brothers did in terms of helping the family. It seems to me they didn’t do anything besides holding grudges against their stepmother and half-siblings. My mother pretty much took over the burden from my grandmother when it came to supporting the family. My mother also had an older sister, but she married off to another village really early so she was no help.

Eventually my grandfather died and my grandmother went on to live with our family instead of with my uncles’ or aunts’. She looked after me and my brothers as my parents ran their businesses. When my family immigrated to America, my grandmother came with us. My brothers and I were very young then, ages 4 to 12. Being new immigrants, my parents had to work very hard to put food on the table. My grandmother was great help to them as far as taking care of us kids while they worked all day. As such, my grandmother played a big role in our family as we were growing up. And we loved and respected her very much for that.

About 10 years ago, my mother’s second brother immigrated to America as well. At that time my grandmother’s health was starting to decline. She especially started to lose her mobility. She could no longer walk and needed to be transported everywhere with a wheelchair. Even the simple act of going to the bathroom was a problem. As such, she needed a lot of care and attention on a daily basis. Since my parents had to run the family restaurant and my brothers and I either had to work or go to school, we couldn’t give her the kind of attention she needed. Therefore it was fortunate that my uncle came to America because he then took over the task of taking care of my grandmother. At first my uncle lived with us at our home and cared for my grandmother there. Then a couple of years later he and my grandmother moved into an apartment closer to downtown where it was more convenient for him to take care of her. From then on, my grandmother was under my uncle’s care at his apartment. Once in awhile we visited them and once in awhile my uncle would take my grandmother, in her wheelchair, to “walks” as far as to our restaurant as a small little field trip.

Then a few years ago, my grandmother had a stroke which rendered her bedridden ever since. She could not even sit in a wheelchair. Therefore in the last few years she was always in her bed. With her poor vision, poor hearing, and poor memory, she pretty much didn’t know what was going on around her. She couldn’t recognize us when we visited. She probably couldn’t even feel her own existence. But she hung on. My grandmother was a strong woman. From her early years of working hard to take care of her family to her latter years of fighting to keep her life, my grandmother was a strong and amazing lady. Her strength, her will, her capabilities, none of these can be slighted.

Then last Tuesday, May 3, 2005, my grandmother suddenly coughed like mad. We sent her to the hospital. The doctors told us she had some internal bleeding in her lungs. She was in critical care for two days and then she was transferred back to a regular room after her condition stabilized. I visited her as often as I could while she was there. Then on Saturday, May 7, 2005, her kidneys failed. Shortly after that, she stopped breathing and passed away peacefully in her sleep. My brother and my uncle were there with her when she passed. My mother had just stepped away from the hospital to drive a visiting relative home when it happened. Therefore she wasn’t able to be at my grandmother’s side at the moment of her passing. I myself also wasn’t there at that moment. To be honest, none of us expected her to leave so suddenly. We all thought she could overcome this episode. When I visited her on Friday evening, I had asked the nurse on duty for her assessment of my grandmother’s situation. The nurse told me that she looked pretty stable and that after a few more days of monitoring, she may be able to go home. And that’s exactly what we all thought – that she might be able to overcome this one and go home in a few days. She had always been able to “go home in a few days”. Why shouldn’t she this time? Banking on that, I had planned to visit my grandmother later in the evening on Saturday so that I could do some stuff in the earlier part of the day. Unfortunately, I missed the chance to see her one more time before she left. It was more unfortunate for my mother though. She was there all morning and had just stepped out for about an hour and still she missed her mother’s last moment.

I’m sure my grandmother fought very hard this time around just like she always did in the past. It may just probably be the time for her to let go and free herself. She should be at a better place now, a place where she can have peace and comfort to rest her tired, overworked soul.

She will be missed.