GRANDMA

much as i would love to share about my friend's experiences, i think it's better said from the horses' mouth.

much as i would have loved to have heard stories of my grandma by my grandma, i never really had the chance to. i don't wonder why, grandma is such a person of long-suffering she never bothers to talk about her hard life... she only bothered to share what little she had, gave out of her poverty, honour the outcasts of society, and represented every single thing proverbs 31 said about a woman... she's a strong christian who fought all the way to the end. she's my grandma.

before i heard stories about grandma from my cousins and uncles before today's death memorial service of hers, i only knew that she loved guavas, 'irritated' me by giving her share of food to me always, in case i hadn't enough, bought marie biscuits for the grandchildren- which none of the kids really loved, and went to church every sunday...

then her health started failing, and all i remembered was how she used to cover me with blankets when i slept, because i never bothered to. and i get cold at night. i remembered how impatient i was in her misunderstanding of my academic and musical abilities- i thought she was always too critical for my liking. but i didn't miss her all that much because i thought that she would always be around for me...

when she passed on, i cried like a baby. why? because i never appreciated her. i never imagined that her giving me her share of food was what she had been doing all the years of her life. she never had much to eat, always drinking the gravy of the veggies she cooked for the family, and eating stale bread soaked in water to fill her stomach, many times going without food... everyone would have their share, never her. no one knew, because the kids were many and my grandad was a gambler- and gambled away all the family's earnings... she worked as a washerwoman, took care of the kids, did the chores of a wife, a housewife and cared for her grandchildren like her children... even working a day after she gave birth. she never had that one month's worth of rest needed by women who just delivered.

when she lugged home tons of biscuits and fruit for us, i never did think how heavy those things were to carry on the journey from redhill to my house. and she took the bus. she always tried to save on herself and spend on others... she merely wanted to share happiness with me, like she did with everyone else around her; i was too silly in my own world and space to know about it.

my aunt shared that she would drink water to fill her stomach when there wasn't enough food on the table, but she never let her children and grandchildren go hungry. she would give out of her poverty to people who needed it... she would make coffee for the ragged old man with down syndrome who pushed the smelly trash around everyday last time... she never despised the poor. because she was poor.

she went around begging for money when the house and everything was gone... due to the gambling debts of my grandad... and started a business to earn some-never selling things at too high a price so that other poor could buy something for themselves... she didn't earn much, and what she earned she loaned to the poor...

it wasn't until much later in life that her children started to carve out careers for her and started to bring food to her table for her. but she never got used to receiving... she was used to giving... that was the only fault of hers... but it isn't a fault, is it?

my grandma, a great woman.