My grandmother

My Grandmother

I rummage through the clutter on my study table trying to find my lost pencil. Instead of a pencil, a picture catches my eye. There are two people in there. A lady with a kebaya smiling at me in her arms. I am washed by warm sweet memories of this lady – my grandmother.

I can never forget all the love and care she bestowed upon me. I was truly blessed with such a grandmother. It is funny that the only memories I have of her are the little things she used to do with me.

I remember I always looking forward to Mondays. Mondays were field trip time. We would usually go to Gurney Drive in my grandfather’s blue Audi. She would help me pick up the little pines that fell on to the sand. It was the best time I had ever had with her. While the salty gentle sea wind blew against my cheeks, my grandmother would be holding my hand while I collected more and more pines. My grandfather would be tailing us from behind. Before we went back into the car, my grandmother would hand me some of the pines she had collected and together, we’d count them while throwing them into the sea. After which, we would return home the same way we came.

I also remember Saturdays fondly. The three of us, my grandfather, my grandmother and me, would wake up early in the morning and go for a steaming hot bowl of Koay Teow Th’ng at the nearest coffee shop. Me sitting in the front seat on my grandmother’s lap fidgeting away at her "sarong", I felt on top of the world. I could see almost everything that passed by. Later that day, I would just sit idly watching my grandmother scrape coconut the old fashion way or watch her make dried orange peel.

Gradually, as the years passed by, I began straying from my grandmother. I no longer ran to my grandmother each time I came home from school nor did I run to find her when I was in trouble.

In the year 1994, my grandmother was diagnosed with kidney failure. She suffered for over 6 months before death came to release her of her sufferings. I remember praying to God asking him to spare her life just so I could make up for the lost time. But, deep down inside, I knew it was time for her to go. It was not fair for her to continue suffering.

It was a hot sweltering day. I remember seeing my mother’s car turn into the school gate. I knew this was a bad omen. My mother never frequented the school during recess. My doubts were confirmed when my mother told me my grandmother had gone to another world.

I was sad but not shocked. I tried controlling the tears that were building up inside me. Memories of fun times with her came crashing down on me. The dam inside of me finally opened and the tears came uncontrollably.

I couldn’t bear saying my last good bye to my grandmother. But I knew I had to. I paid my last respects to her and watched her go at her funeral.

When I returned from my reminiscence, the sky had grown to a orangey red. Dusk was here. I replaced the picture and returned back to work. I regret not having told her how much I loved and cherished her. I wish I had a second chance. I know that whoever is gone, is gone but the memories they leave behind are priceless.