Grandma's Legacy

Although I haven't had much time to blog, I will write a post for Grandma. Grandma is 104 years old and at this writing is nearing the end of her long and rich life. Tobey may never remember his great grandma who gave him a bell to play with when he was just learning to walk and Eli will never know how much he has brightened up Grandma's days smiling at her in her arms. But I want them to know a little about her because they are in a descendant line indisputably influenced by her.

Auntie Pauline has been encouraging me to write a tribute to Grandma for the last several months, ever since Emily and Carey wrote theirs which brightened Grandma's days when she was the most depressed. But emotionally I couldn't, with too many frustrating arguments and hurtful comments between usfor me to write a proper tribute.

Now with her condition becoming a bit more urgent over the weekend, all the negativity faded quickly and there was an outpouring of all my fond memories of Grandma into the following written tribute. I even disrespectfully was writing during Sunday service because the thoughts were flowing and I didn't want to miss the opportunity to express them. The irony is that I didn't and probably never will have a chance to read or have this read to her. But God blessed me with a moment on Sunday while visiting her that we got to exchange "I love yous" so that I know she doesn't see me as the one who distanced myself from her to avoid frustrating arguments.

Anyway, my tribute to Katherine Cheng Young.

During these 11 years of living in the Bay Area, I have had my share of butting heads with Grandma over issues that ranged in seriousness. Among them: the latest Lytton politics, the “dungeon” at Stanford Hospital, whether her WebTV was broken, her WebTV teacher and her helpers, removing the rose garden palm tree under cover of night, the Italian dinner I cooked for Auntie Pauline that she said didn’t have enough substance for my pregnancy, whether or not I know her life history. But those isolated moments of the past 11 years are but a blip of her rich 104+ years and my memory of her. In Grandma I don’t see someone that I contend with. In Grandma, I see a strong, spiritual, generous, resourceful and playful person.

The first time I sobbed in a movie was when I watched the first 15 minutes of “Joy Luck Club”. During the war, one of the mothers was dying and left her twin baby daughters under a tree with the hope that someone will take them to her husband in the city. Grandma absolutely hates that movie for that scene because she thought it was reprehensible for anyone to leave their babies behind, no matter what the circumstances. And that’s precisely why I sobbed because after hearing so many times about Grandma’s own wartime survival with not two but four daughters, I had a glimpse of Grandma’s experience from watching the movie. She too was fleeing with children in tow, trying to reach Grandpa in another city. Had Grandma been any less strong or any less determined to get through the war not to mention her own education, our family would not have flourished the way it has now. I might not be who I am or even where I am today.

I had the same insight into Grandma’s experience when Andrew found an old black and white picture on the Internet of a hillside in China. The picture was of a dirt road climbing up the slope, turn after turn. Everyone in the family knew what it was as we counted the switchbacks, the famous 24 zigzags, Grandma’s hallmark story of God’s guidance in her life. I pictured Grandma at the top of that mountain, after a bumpy truck ride, saving my mom and my aunts from a house fire. It reminds me that the Grandma’s story is real and that she has a deep and rich history before her years in the U.S. that I could only imagine.

From my childhood as well as learning about Grandma’s rich history, I remember a generous Grandma, generous with her knowledge, generous with her home. My earliest memories of Grandma include learning how to type on our dining room table, probably reminiscent of her time teaching typing in Hong Kong and Taiwan. I can relive climbing the tree in front of 788 Walnut with my brothers and cousins, coming into the apartment for crunchy green California grapes, playing Grandpa’s favorite Bach on their piano, or playing with a green teddy bear in their little garden atrium, all echoes of what her home must have been like in Taiwan where my dad hung out instead of at his own home, or where she took in an orphan “mei-mei” for several months. Even in the Lytton apartment, her door was always open for a neighbor to say hello or to stay for a game of mahjong and rummy…or for a tired granddaughter to visit after a long day of teaching, rest on a couch in a place where time seemed to stop and life seemed more relaxing for a couple of hours. The welcome even extended to the next generation as Tobey discovered and dismantled her cabinet full of jars and plastic containers and Grandma seemed the happier for it.

Grandma is also one of the most resourceful people that I know. She isn’t resourceful out of a sense of being “cheap” or frugal. She is resourceful because she can find solutions customized for her needs. It took me years to realize that the mysterious potato masher in the bathroom was for hand washing delicates. I can’t look at a pole with a hook at the end without thinking about Grandma reaching for things with it. When I sit down to nurse my baby and have phone, TV remote and water all within reach, I know that is influence from Grandma, who had everything from her medicine to her toaster oven within arm’s reach. Her secret key, her exercise rope, her little jars of clips, her containers where she repackaged all her crackers and cereal (including Marcia’s frosted flakes) – to a stranger these may all seem like quirks but to those who know Grandma, they are signs of a resourceful and smart person.

In the last couple of years where life has gotten more difficult for Grandma, I almost forgot about my favorite side of Grandma, her playful side. My absolute favorite picture of Grandma was her flirtingly peeking out from behind one of my plush stuffed animals. She still likes to look at kids through her telescoped hands and I loved seeing her bring out little bells and cups to entertain my toddler with. She has her “signature sayings” including “goodie goodie goodie goodie!” from the 1980’s, “You are SMART!” when we figure out something more clever than her and the phrase “being registered” into the family for the new spouses of each of us grandchildren. I even liked hearing her friendly banter with her best friend Jessie. Where most Chinese grandmas are stoic or scary, Grandma breaks the stereotype with her subtle expressions of humor and whim.

Grandma is permanently braided into my life history as an adult here in California. I carried her roses down the aisle when I got married at Church of the Epiphany in San Carlos, the church where she and Grandpa first planted roots in the U.S. and where my parents and all the aunts got married. Tom is her favorite handyman to the point that she told me to bring him over just to change a light bulb. Tom really became part of the family when Grandma yelled at him as well as me while she was fighting being in the hospital. Tobey and Eli have been my joy to bring over to visit Grandma and to see her face light up. And my friends all know about my 100+ year old grandma, including our friends Frank & Tzielan who she trusted to babysit her michelia alba tree.

Many people fear turning into their parents when they grow up. But I can see aspects of myself that I am glad are distinctly “Young”, distinctly Grandma. If I am sociable, vivacious, humorous or playful, I know it’s the same spoiled youngest child gene that Grandma has. If I am generous, charitable or altruistic, it is clearly a tradition passed to me through my parents from Grandma’s example. Even when I get a bit stubborn or can’t seem to change my mind, I wonder if I got that from Grandma. When I think about how I became a Christian, I attribute that to the strong family upbringing through my parents, through Grandma, back to Grandma’s father and the red-headed missionary. Even if I step back and see my perky and talkative personality compared to Tom’s loyal and reserved one, I secretly hope we’ll be as cute as Grandma and Grandpa in our senior years.

Grandma, I love you.

Love,
Angela, your #7
October 16, 2005