Ode to my grandpa

A kind and hands-on grandfather has left a deep impression on his granddaughter.

EVERYBODY has a grandfather, but I am fortunate to have quite a unique one.

My Grandpa was a native of China. His entrepreneurial spirit saw him navigate his way to Malayan shores in the 1940s to start a new life as a carpenter and build a family with my maternal grandmother.

Over the years, my grandfather adopted a baby girl from a very poor family in Penang. They experienced poverty beyond imagination, to the extent that the biological parents could only afford to feed their young, growing children with biscuits for lunch and dinner, while milk for the kids consisted of watered-down condense milk.

With four children to raise on a meagre, single income, the biological parents had no choice but to give away one of their daughters to safeguard the survival of the other three girls. My grandpa adopted one of the little girls, and that girl is my mother.

The family continued living from hand to mouth – my mother told me that chicken was a rare dish, reserved only for Chinese New Year and devoured only at relatives’ homes during the festive season. Unfinished lunch was heated up for dinner, and salted at the end of the day for consumption the following day as the household did not have a refrigerator. But my mother was never deprived of attention or love.

I was introduced to my Grandpa when I was in primary school. As he lived in a wooden house in Teluk Intan, Perak, the sound of the taxi roaring down the front of our house every two months was much looked forward to by my sister and me. We would give a shout out that “Kung

Kung is here!” to the household, open the door and help Grandpa carry his suitcase from the car boot.

My mother did not grow up with any firsthand toys. In fact, all the toys that she had were hand-me-downs from her adoptive cousins.

But Grandpa, who had over the years improved his livelihood by being a much sought-after shaman in Teluk Intan, brought us toys during some of his visits.

I remember how my face lit up with joy when Grandpa presented my sister and me with an original Hello Kitty toy set (not the pasar

malam type), the size of a small cereal box, comprising a small house, a Hello Kitty figurine and a tree. That toy became our favourite toy for months to come. How would an elderly man know what gift to buy for little girls? It astonished me.; Clearly,

Grandpa had made the effort to find out from the storekeeper about the toy that would tickle the fancy of girls our age.

When my Grandpa presented my sister and me with thick gold necklaces, my mother knew that Grandpa had gone overboard with the gifts, in a good way. Mother gently told him to keep the money for himself, for his old age and to pamper himself. Grandpa saved up after that, and we were happy for him. Grandpa carved a name for himself as a reliable shaman among the townsfolk, and was also a palmist. I remember the day Grandpa asked to study my palm, and after a while, he looked up at me with an expression that I would never forget. He told me that I was special in my own way, hardworking and tenacious. I do not know if it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but today I embody these characteristics that Grandpa told me of, more than 30 years ago.

Grandpa passed away of old age. Just like an old car, some parts of the car eventually and progressively malfunctioned, to the extent that the vital parts could not be fixed and the “car” shut down.

I feel blessed to have known a man with such a kind soul, how he tried to cook a pot of rice for my sister and me, resulting in burnt but edible rice; how he tried to converse in broken English with us and how this made us crack up laughing.

When I observe how my daughter speaks lovingly of her grandpa (or my late father-in-law), I can now see how grandfathers dote on the younger ones, and all the loving memories they leave behind.