Not ready to be parent, this much I know. And I was
reassured of this when I returned to PingTung, Taiwan to visit my paternal
grandparents. How this could connect, well, let me just put it easier for you to understand without a tumultuous amount of storytelling...
My paternal grandparents live in PingTung, Taiwan. My grandfather has been in the hospital for two weeks and getting better as time goes by. My grandmother, however, has been at home with a live-in caretaker. Due to her dementia, she only remembers things five minutes at a time, and then repeats it. It first started happening when she lived with my family in Los Angeles, California, and then got worse. And as things took that turn, my grandfather made the decision that it would be better for them to return to their home, here, because if she were to get lost, she could speak to everyone and they would understand her. Whereas, if she got lost in America, not as many people would be able to help her. The idea of having a round-the-clock caretaker was offensive to my grandfather, but he gave in after he found himself too tired from doing everything she used to do for him.
My paternal grandma fled China in the old days and made it to Taiwan. She had a daughter, 5-6 abortions, and then a son, my father. She dedicated her life to Church and her job as a librarian. She raised my sisters and myself and worked hard to make ends meet for her family. A master chef in the kitchen, a loving housewife to her husband, and a creative genius otherwise, none could compare to her diligence and humbleness. And yet... now... To hear her speak incomplete stories, I feel a sadness in my heart. None of them make sense, none of them are complete, and some of them may have happened, but none of them happened that day. Many of the stories she says aloud happened very long ago, but because it’s in her mind, she happened to say it out loud. Whether or not there are names or just memories muddled together or not, then she goes on, making things up, and then repeating it. A bit like Dory, if you really think about it.
And when I thought the ice cream truck was coming by, boy was I surprised to see that it was the trash collection truck! My hopes and dreams of something yummy turned into something yucky! What a horrendous discovery that was, indeed!
So, when her reading is done, from the newspaper to pre-made pamphlets of Bible passages and stories, she also pulled out a huge bible with large words, all in Chinese. So, not only does my grandma's literacy rate go up, time passes rather quickly and she wastes away the day reading instead of doing anything. And the most interesting part is that, she has no recollection of ever reading the material. Instead, she thinks she is reading it for the first time, learning and discovering as she goes.
This is strange to me because my maternal grandparents are both quite sharp as whips, but my maternal grandfather just is a bit hard of hearing. They never leave their apartment but have enough family around them to send people out to bring things back for them. They're never lacking anything and very independently surviving. They live quietly, together, and are quite cute, funny, and wrinkly. My maternal grandmother is a bit like Master Oogway from "Kung-Fu Panda" physically and personality-wise. And my maternal grandpa is something different altogether for me. To put it so that you can understand just how much this man means to me... my very first memory, when I was 3, was with him. I thought it was just a dream, but, I REMEMBERED more than they told me and shocked them all! Yes, for the man who I first remembered holding the hand of and walking over green grass by a pond, all my love and hope for approval goes to him.
WELL... I'm not completely out of touch with my life in LA, though!! Here's a trailer to a film I want to see, for sure!!
My paternal grandparents live in PingTung, Taiwan. My grandfather has been in the hospital for two weeks and getting better as time goes by. My grandmother, however, has been at home with a live-in caretaker. Due to her dementia, she only remembers things five minutes at a time, and then repeats it. It first started happening when she lived with my family in Los Angeles, California, and then got worse. And as things took that turn, my grandfather made the decision that it would be better for them to return to their home, here, because if she were to get lost, she could speak to everyone and they would understand her. Whereas, if she got lost in America, not as many people would be able to help her. The idea of having a round-the-clock caretaker was offensive to my grandfather, but he gave in after he found himself too tired from doing everything she used to do for him.
My paternal grandma fled China in the old days and made it to Taiwan. She had a daughter, 5-6 abortions, and then a son, my father. She dedicated her life to Church and her job as a librarian. She raised my sisters and myself and worked hard to make ends meet for her family. A master chef in the kitchen, a loving housewife to her husband, and a creative genius otherwise, none could compare to her diligence and humbleness. And yet... now... To hear her speak incomplete stories, I feel a sadness in my heart. None of them make sense, none of them are complete, and some of them may have happened, but none of them happened that day. Many of the stories she says aloud happened very long ago, but because it’s in her mind, she happened to say it out loud. Whether or not there are names or just memories muddled together or not, then she goes on, making things up, and then repeating it. A bit like Dory, if you really think about it.
And when I thought the ice cream truck was coming by, boy was I surprised to see that it was the trash collection truck! My hopes and dreams of something yummy turned into something yucky! What a horrendous discovery that was, indeed!
So, when her reading is done, from the newspaper to pre-made pamphlets of Bible passages and stories, she also pulled out a huge bible with large words, all in Chinese. So, not only does my grandma's literacy rate go up, time passes rather quickly and she wastes away the day reading instead of doing anything. And the most interesting part is that, she has no recollection of ever reading the material. Instead, she thinks she is reading it for the first time, learning and discovering as she goes.
This is strange to me because my maternal grandparents are both quite sharp as whips, but my maternal grandfather just is a bit hard of hearing. They never leave their apartment but have enough family around them to send people out to bring things back for them. They're never lacking anything and very independently surviving. They live quietly, together, and are quite cute, funny, and wrinkly. My maternal grandmother is a bit like Master Oogway from "Kung-Fu Panda" physically and personality-wise. And my maternal grandpa is something different altogether for me. To put it so that you can understand just how much this man means to me... my very first memory, when I was 3, was with him. I thought it was just a dream, but, I REMEMBERED more than they told me and shocked them all! Yes, for the man who I first remembered holding the hand of and walking over green grass by a pond, all my love and hope for approval goes to him.
WELL... I'm not completely out of touch with my life in LA, though!! Here's a trailer to a film I want to see, for sure!!
As for the CoTangent, well check out Ed on his own in LA, recording!!
Enjoy and watching my paternal grandma fit shapes into a puzzle for kids... Once the greatest mind... Am I to face a similar fate?
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