Goodbye, 嫲嫲

Dear Zachary,

One of the major reasons why we moved back to the Bay Area from SoCal was so that you could spend more time with your grandparents. Because our grandparents were in Hong Kong, we didn't get to enjoy a close relationship with them, so we had hopes that your childhood would be different. Alas, you will probably not remember the time you spent with your 嫲嫲. Tragically, she passed away unexpectedly when you were not yet fifteen months old. However, we are so incredibly grateful for the time you did have with her.

Your 嫲嫲 loved you so much; even though she spent a lot of the year in Philly, the times she did spend with you were special. When you were first born, she spent hours holding you while you napped, a happy baby burrito in her arms. When you were awake, you loved lying in her lap, kicking her tummy. When she came back for a long visit when you were half a year old, she spent so much time trying to cook and feed you nutritious first foods. You loved the pork and Chinese veggies that she made. When you got a little older, you refused to eat the specially set aside curried pumpkin sans curry; you demanded the full experience of her flavorful cooking. I'm so glad you got to taste all of her nuanced sauces, nutritionally recommended sodium levels be hanged.

In between visits, you Facetimed regularly with her and she delighted in each new skill -- rolling over, sitting up, banging on the piano, crawling, and pulling up to stand -- even if the development meant that most of the call was spent trying to keep you from grabbing the iPad. As you got older, you definitely recognized her voice and when she finally came back to see you in person, you greeted her with a big toothy grin.

During her last visit, besides savoring her cooking, you also got to spend lots of quality time reading with her. While you are usually an incredibly active baby, always on the go and never content to sit still, it was different with her. Because of her bad knee, she couldn't run around with you, but it was as if you understood. She was the only one you were happy to snuggle with. She patiently sat with you and made noises for all the animals in your picture books. TBPH, even though I'm your mother, I didn't have as much patience as she did for humoring your desire to hear continuous mooing for thirty minutes.

Grandmothers are stereotypically portrayed as loving women who knit blankets and sweaters for their grandchildren and cook delicious, comforting meals. The secret to their handiwork, of course, is the love in every stitch of the blanket, the love stirred for hours into the simmering pots. Nobody ever talks, though, about the love vocalized in every moo, baa, and oink.

I know you won't remember these times with her, but I hope one day you can read this and know without a doubt that she loved you so very much. I wish you could have had the experience of growing up with her presence in your life, as she was a generous, compassionate, feisty woman who loved God and people. Her legacy lives on in your father, and hopefully will continue in you one day.

See that yellow blanket? She knit that for you!