To all my ancestors, family, and next in kin. Don't forget.
Waiting for the day we come home.My great-grandfather died yesterday. From something like bronchitis, or some other almost meaningless disease. He had it for 8 weeks and ended up in a coma. It's funny this happened to a man who was nearing his 100th birthday and was still practicing tai chi every day, staying fit and healthy. He was probably tougher in his later years than I am now. And he's gone like that.
My mother told me specifically not to go to the funeral in Vancouver. She told me that my studies were more important. Never mind that the funeral would be the day before my show in LCC, or during the tech rehearsals. I'm hardly studying anymore for anything. But still, obligation to family should be paramount. I promise, I'll make it out next time...
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"For My Grandmother"
I remember you now.
I remember you now.
The memory is so clear I can almost feel your frail hands clutching onto mine.
Your vacant glassy eyes staring, focused on a memory on the wall as if it spoke to you.
You lips, dried, chapped, and devoid of the color they once had,
Held slightly apart like they had something to say.
Hi, Grandma. It's me, Mandel.
Do you remember me?
你認識不認識我？ 是我，林文耀。
I'm 21 now. I'm gonna graduate soon.
I've got so much knowledge in my head, but why don't I have more memories of you?
I remember days of crossing the bridge to San Francisco,
Seeing the Koit Tower standing like an ivory chess piece atop a hill, saying
"That's where we're going to see Ye-Ye and Ma-Ma."
And week in and week out I remember your body struggling to get up just to sit down again in the shower.
My mother bathed you, though she was only your daughter-in-law,
Not that you knew who she was anyway.
Alzheimer's does that to you.
But how was I supposed to know that?
I was too preoccupied with the garden in the back,
Imagining I was in an African jungle,
Or I was too busy learning to play Chess with Grampa,
To ever question why a disease with the power to erase memories had to exist.
I remember days when Grampa came back in the morning from Chinatown,
Carrying bags and bags of yams,
And in the course of a day, baked them, mashed them,
And fed spoonful after spoonful to you.
And I swear it kept both of you going when there was no hope left.
I remember times when I walked by your room,
You laying in bed with that same vacant gaze,
And I wondered if you had died.
And after the disease finished it's course and left a hollow shell of a woman,
I remember I lost two grandparents that month.
One to the disease, and one to despair.
Painted a dark crimson red, your lips, once devoid of color,
Looked as if they had been revived from some memory from long ago.
Your frail hands clutching each other as you were lowered into the ground.
It's been years since I recalled any of this.
Forced into some dark, dusty corner of my mind.
Because now, my family goes to another hill,
Where a marble slab stands like an ivory chess piece.
"That's where we're going to see Ye-Ye and Ma-Ma"
I tell myself.
Grandma, please, do you remember me?
Cuz though I'm only 21, I'm already finding it harder and harder to remember you.
But deep in a dark dusty corner of my mind, I can see you.
The memory is so clear now, I can see you.
A single frozen memory, different from all the others.
The edges of your lips turned upwards into a smile.
Your eyes, dark and deep, full of life.
Looking at me. Focused on me.
Your rose colored lips, held slightly apart,
Like they had something to say.