Goodbye Grandma

Yesterday (June 15, 2010), I attended the funeral of my maternal grandmother.  All of my other grandparents passed away well before I was born.  She was the only grandparent I ever knew.  She was 99 years old.

I found out about her death when I was in China on a research trip for my PhD.  My studies involve Christian theology in China since the 20th century.  So, I had been traveling to many churches, seminaries and university departments of religion and philosophy.  Being in China, I also spent some time attending famous Daoist and Buddhist sites throughout the country and attended a Confucian-Christian dialogue at one Chinese university.  The news of my grandmother came near the end of a several-week stay I had at one university.  I finished up my time there, flew back to the UK for a few days and made it here to LA last Sunday.

Grandma was born in 1911, the year the Republic of China was established.  After marrying my grandfather, he moved to Burma to help with the family business and they were separated for 10 years before she rejoined him.  Altogether, they bore four children – my uncle and mother (the youngest) were the only ones to survive.  The year my mother was born, my grandfather fell sick and died.  Grandma became a single mother raising two young children in a foreign land, during the years of Japanese occupation.  On one occasion, a bomb went off near their home.  Though she was able to protect both her children from the explosion, she lost complete hearing in one of her ears.

Through the many challenges of life, grandma was a robust lady.  Two years ago, just after Betty and I got married, she had a severe stroke.  Before that, she lived alone in an apartment in LA, took the bus everywhere and daily played mahjong with her friends and attended the local Buddhist temple to pray for family and friends.  After her stroke, she moved into my parents’ home to be looked after daily by my family.  Though she was able to regain much of her original physical strength, she could no longer live independent of others.

Attending her funeral was quite surreal.  Grandma was a devout Buddhist and self-taught fortune-teller.  Many friends and family would go to her to help determine a good day to get married, move into a home or other important life events.  Many years ago, she even hiked through the many acres at Rose Hills Cemetery.  She was looking for the most auspicious location to bury the remains of my grandfather, imported from Burma, and for her own future resting place.  It was therefore quite appropriate for her to have a Buddhist-Daoist funeral, full of incense and chanting.

My grandma taught me many things throughout her life.  I remember, when I was a child, her iron grip squeezing my tiny hand tightly to instruct me on how to properly use chopsticks.  She also told many stories to illustrate the importance of hard work, humility and being content with what one has.  Later in life, grandma also taught me how to pick a good wife who would not waste away all my riches (she said I did well after her first meeting with Betty).

But even at her funeral, grandma continued to teach.  About a year ago, she prepared a prayer to be recited by my mom at her future burial, though not to be read to the public.  My mom showed me a copy and, I must say, it was quite beautiful.  I am a student of Christian theology but also a student of the cultural and religious heritage I was born into.

Grandma, I hoped you would one day hold and play with my children.  But am glad to have your life, love and lessons persist in our lives.  Thank you for all that you have done and all that you have been.  I love you.  Goodbye grandma.

榮錦