WHAT A WOMAN
We had dinner with Nick's grandfather yesterday, which was the first time I had seen him after Tsun-Hsien's (Nick's grandmother) passing.
After some very long hugs, he began to tell us several stories and anecdotes about her, some about the end of her life (the hospital tales) and some about her life in its prime (their early married years and those spent building their family).
I held it together for a good long while, until we were at dinner and he told us of the last two weeks with her. She could no longer grip utensils with her frail, bruised hands, so he had taken to feeding her because the nurses didn't have time to sit with her for each meal. He fed her all three meals, every single day. In her infinite self-reliance, she asked him, "How many husbands would do this for their wives?" He told us (after joking, "It depends on what kind of husband, and I suppose what kind of wife!") that after 57 years of marriage, he'd do anything for her.
His voice would change depending on which stories we were hearing; cheerful and animated for stories about Cornell and India; static and quiet for stories about illness and the hospital. Regardless of the tone of each story, he would end it the same way, smiling and shaking his head:
"What a woman."
He told us over and over of her courage, her modesty, her strength, her steadfastness, her humor, and above all, her trust in and love for him, which guided them through 57 years of married life together. "She never complained," he told us, "not once did she complain."
Because she was unable to finish penning her memoirs due to her health problems, Nick's grandpa is now working to pick up where she left off, determined to record the legacy of "one of the best Kwans" from their powerful 700-year family lineage.
I cannot imagine what he thinks about now, all day and night without her. What a woman.
After some very long hugs, he began to tell us several stories and anecdotes about her, some about the end of her life (the hospital tales) and some about her life in its prime (their early married years and those spent building their family).
I held it together for a good long while, until we were at dinner and he told us of the last two weeks with her. She could no longer grip utensils with her frail, bruised hands, so he had taken to feeding her because the nurses didn't have time to sit with her for each meal. He fed her all three meals, every single day. In her infinite self-reliance, she asked him, "How many husbands would do this for their wives?" He told us (after joking, "It depends on what kind of husband, and I suppose what kind of wife!") that after 57 years of marriage, he'd do anything for her.
His voice would change depending on which stories we were hearing; cheerful and animated for stories about Cornell and India; static and quiet for stories about illness and the hospital. Regardless of the tone of each story, he would end it the same way, smiling and shaking his head:
"What a woman."
He told us over and over of her courage, her modesty, her strength, her steadfastness, her humor, and above all, her trust in and love for him, which guided them through 57 years of married life together. "She never complained," he told us, "not once did she complain."
Because she was unable to finish penning her memoirs due to her health problems, Nick's grandpa is now working to pick up where she left off, determined to record the legacy of "one of the best Kwans" from their powerful 700-year family lineage.
I cannot imagine what he thinks about now, all day and night without her. What a woman.