remembering grandpa

As long as I can remember, Grandpa doted on the little ones. From the numerous stories that I can remember, of my many uncles and aunties speaking about how Grandpa
would take them out; of the many parks, kiddy rides, satay club, beaches and outings that are so deeply entrenched in their memories – Grandpa showered them with love and affection in the way he best know how. I am sure the deep bonds that they have have much to thank for the childhood that Grandpa has given them. I remember squeezing in Grandpa little Dahutsu Van, for post dinner trips to watch the many crab catchers along Singapore River, before the glittering of the modern day stole its old school charm. I remember Claire, Elaine and myself; sited behind his pale blue pickup, screaming our lungs out as Grandpa took us for road trips. When my cousins grew older, grandpa aged. He could no lover drive with his failing eyesight. Yet, his love for kids and the way he showered his affection never waver. Of many trips to the playground, botanic gardens, zoo; of the kiddy rides in people park, often topped with Char Siew and Roast Pork to supplement dinner, He never cease to add that little happiness to the family. I remembered how he love to make trips to Chinatown, to somewhat relive his younger days. I remember how Grandpa was the peacemaker, always putting himself on the line to care and to bridge the gap – how he left the comfort and stayed with my cousins and commuting weekly to see everyone else. I remember how he gave angpao in proxy during Chinese New Year, so that all of us will remember that we have an uncle overseas. I know deep inside, Grandpa hoped for reconciliation. I remembered how grandpa celebrates his love for grandma. When she was recovering from her stroke, how he brought food, encourages her in the ways and manner he best knew how. I remember his little pecks on her cheek during her birthdays. It always brought laughs to everyone. And I know that grandma is slightly embarrassed. I remembered how Grandpa didn’t show up one weekend. How our endless phone failed to reach him. I remembered how we found him at my uncle’s place, face down, on the ground. He had a stroke. I remember the time his health started ailing. I remember how he missed his little outings, how he insisted he could still. But I remember how he talk slower, how he walked slower, how he needed help. I remember the day I was on MC, I remember how grandpa came in and sat on my bed. I remember how grandpa still indulges in little delicacies. I remember how grandpa asked for charsiew for dinner. I remember how he walked out and I remember how he had another stroke at the door. Grandpa never spoke nor walked again. I remember his last request and I remember his last words. I remember how the last few years would have been so difficult for him. I remember the look in his eyes, I remember how he endure the pain. I remember how he struggled and how he longs to see everyone. How he loves everyone with his glances. I remember how grandpa would struggle to wake up to look at us when we visited. I remember how glad he was to see us. And I remember how one day, te doctor told us that we could no longer do anything for him. I remember how we saw him for the last time. How I held him for the last time. And I remember his passing. ————– I believe that we all remember grandpa in our special ways. I see a little of him in everyone of us, and I know he has impacted all of us in a profound way. More then memories, I believe that we will all remember grandpa in loving one another, in remembering the sacrifices he made for our family and remembering him in one another. And I can only hope and pray that grandpa is in that better place.


~ by yahstin on Thursday, July 5, 2012.

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