Wednesday, June 06, 2012

"Aiyoh, I cannot hear you at the start. But you did very well after that"

That was the last thing she told me, just after mass slightly more than a month ago. And that was the one memory that jolted the tears at Mandai today.

I wouldn't say that my family is very close to my father's godparents. However, whenever they had a chance to meet or speak on the phone, it was always a noisy affair. Grandma's loud voice and infectious laughter is a far cry from Grandpa's soft-spoken demeanor. It was always the usual scene of Grandma being the stern one, while Grandpa would have his arm around you and crack a joke. Typically Victorian. Her usual questions would revolve around our well being, church, school, church, our well being and church.

Every time I come to Holy Family on a weekday, be it for mass or stations, I would always look out for them. They would sit in the middle aisle, to the left of the Fr., especially since it's Grandpa who is the one who is the lector. I remember the days when both of them used to take turns. Grandma's loud voice would ensure that you catch every word of every reading. As a child I would sit there and just wonder if there would be a day where I would be good enough to go up there and do what they do. Now, older and animating for the choir, they would always wait for me at the end of every mass. A simple hug, some simple catch up and 'sending of regards'. Nothing big, nothing grand, but genuine care and concern nevertheless.

Grandma has always been my mum's spiritual rock. She taught mum so much about the faith, and a lot of my mother's staunch devotion to Mother Mary stems from Grandma's influence on her. When I used to complain about going to church as a kid and all, she'll bring up Grandma's name and warn me on how she'll scold me if she heard all my complaints. As dad's godmother, she was there for everything. Dad's baptism, parent's wedding, my baptism and even my sister's baptism. Chinese New Year at her old place was a joy to behold. I was just a kid, but I remember how awesome her cooking tastes. Traditional Peranakan dishes, at their very best. Even during the funeral today, Fr.Pat recalled what an amazing cook Grandma was.

A few years ago, while in the army, I was following Marc for mass after both of us took half day off.

Chris: What car did you use to have before this?
Marc: It was a champagne gold BM 5.
Chris: OH! I've sat in one of those, my dad's godfather drives one.
Marc: Yeah, my grandfather too. Oh, by the way, he's a VS boy!
Chris: My dad's godfather is a VS boy too!
Marc: Wait... is it..
Chris: Edward Tan!

Yup, seeing Marc today, all distraught about Grandma's passing, it was really a sad sight. Funny how the world is so small, and Grandma used to say, it's funny how we both discovered we were god-cousins on our way to attending mass at Cathedral.

Seeing my dad tear, it really struck me how much of an influence Grandma had on his life as well. He was planning to see her in the hospital on Tuesday, but he never got the chance to do it. Life's too short sometimes.

Grandpa was clearly distraught. 58 years of being together. I've always seen them together, be it in Marc's house, their own house and church (Holy Fam and OLPS). It's gonna be different seeing Grandpa alone in the pew during future masses. But hearing the eulogies by their kids, it was really quite amazing. Everyone knew Grandma as loud, honest, always wanting her way, and they summarised it by calling her the Commander. Grandpa was quite the opposite. But 58 years together, and they clearly loved each other despite these differences. It's a wonderful thing isn't it. In a world where love is sometimes overlooked for superficial reasons, it takes a couple like that to just remind us of the true wonder of loving each other.

Grandma, I might have left you a flower with teary eyes and a heavy heart. Being the staunch Catholic you are, I know this is not goodbye, but instead, we'll meet again. (':

Mumbled @ {1:22 AM}
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