I have always wanted to write something about my grandpa,
the most important person of my childhood, but I always started writing
something and felt like it was not enough, and then gave up. The thoughts had
been strong since we last visited China, and I felt the need to write something
to remember and honor him. When we were there this past April, my grandpa could
hardly hear us, had to move around with the help of a cane, a lot of times, he
still remembered us but seemed really distant… It’s so sad to see the person
you used to know and love so dearly aged away…
My grandpa taught me to be active and to love running. He
often told me the story of us walking and jogging. He said that before I could run,
I would be wobbling after him every morning. When I started kindergarten, we
would go running before school. It lasted for years, I couldn’t remember
exactly when we stopped running together, but I kept on running by myself all
the years of my youth. I still remember all the first couple years of
elementary school, I would try out for short distance running every season but
was always the last one to finish. And then one year, my coach decided to let
me try out long distance running, and that was when he and I realized where my
strength was lying. So I was a long distance runner ever since. I ran a marathon
in middle school, all sorts of other long distances throughout my years in
school, even in college, I ran and ran. I never felt tired running, I would
wake up early and run and run; I thought I was obsessed with running. Only when
I was running I felt everything was going to be ok, and I would be able to face
everything in life as long as I didn’t stop running. Whenever I was stressed or
mad at my life, I would go for a long run, and it always helped me to get my
good mood back. It was like my secret stress reliever. It’s a shame though,
that my knees started hurting when I ran, and I have basically quit running a
few years ago when I was pregnant. I hardly ever run any more, I often think
that maybe I did too much when I was little and now I sort of hate it. This is
one reason that I wanted to write it out because I feel a great guilt that I
stopped running, and I owe so much to running, to my grandpa who taught me to
love running.
My grandpa was a huge influence in my years of schooling. He
was a teacher for many years and a principle at some point. He valued education
more than anybody back then. When I was in kindergarten, I was a year younger
than most of my classmates. Elementary school would not accept me and 4 others
into their first grade because we were too young. It would be fine, except that
I was devastated. All my friends who I played every day with in kindergarten,
were going to first grade without me… If being a so called “worthless girl”
didn’t ruin my hope for future, then that “age limit” may have defeated me. My grandpa
hated to use his influence but stepped up for me and bargained a “test” for me
and 4 others who were the same age as me, the deal was that if we tested at
good scores then we get to go to elementary school. And of course, I didn’t
disappoint my grandpa. In fact, trying not to disappoint my grandpa had been my
goal for a long time until the “trying to be better than my brother so my
parents will notice me” took over later. When it was time for high school, I
was lucky to be one of the few that got picked from the village middle school
to go to high school in the city. I had to live in the dorm in the city. Funny
thing was that I cried the first few days of school, mostly missing my grandpa.
And then of course, the tomboy me had a hard time getting along with girly
girls and they ganged up on me and isolated me as a weirdo. At the same time,
they were probably jealous that boys loved to hang out with me and called me
“Big Brother”, my high school nick name. I was quite the influence among boys,
but the outsider among girls. Eventually, I got into a big argument with a girl
who was the leader of my roommates and she made sure my life was like hell in
the dorm. So I decided that I either quit living in the dorm or I quit high
school. My grandpa stepped up again for me to live with me in my aunt’s empty
apartment in the city so that I could have permission to live off campus. I was
humiliated and felt guilty all the time. I wondered but couldn’t figure out why
girls would give me so much trouble, why they just didn’t like me and I had to
bother my grandpa to move to the city for me. But I was also grateful that he
was there for me, I could have slipped and fell and never got up again, but my
grandpa saved me. He gave me strength to go forward, he showed me that there
was still hope in me, even though I was so confused. In college, I was not the
most likeable one in the dorm, but I kept my relationship acceptable, and
nobody hated me so that was good. I survived living in a dorm full of girls and
I called that a success. It’s funny though, my life’s biggest challenge as ever
as now, has always been maintaining a good relationship with female, I still
struggle till this day. I wonder if not having a mom figure in my life has
contributed to that or that my grandpa was the only person that taught me most
of the things I know.
Because of my grandpa, I love all fatty food, chicken skin,
pig fat, pig feet, chicken feet… I know it sounds disgusting to most people.
But my grandpa loved eating them and I was always the one that ate all that
with him. Now days whenever I ate something fatty, it always reminded me my
grandpa, the years of being an innocent child who got all excited over a bowl
of chicken skins that the whole family “saved” for me. It’s not that I eat
super unhealthy or something, I think the concept of enjoying food was the main
point that I got from it. I may even enjoy food a little too much, but I make
peace with food and not make a battle out of it and for that, I am grateful for
my grandpa.
My grandpa and I were a pack of two loners, we stuck
together. When I was growing up, I thought that there were two people that my
grandma disliked: My grandpa and me. It’s easy to understand why she disliked
me; it’s simple: I was a “useless girl”. Why she disliked my grandpa was a
little complicated and took me years to figure out, or not. She blames my
grandpa for not having any sons; She was humiliated in front of the whole town because
my grandpa was a teacher during the “Cultural Revolution”; And of course, my
grandpa’s teacher salary was never much (and then he quit teaching to make more
money, but it was never a lot), not enough to support the family of 6; All the
years of open humiliation of having no sons by the mean village people; maybe
there were more things that I would never know or understand and more. My
grandma criticized me and my grandpa all the time and they fought all the time.
My grandpa and I would always retreat to the “south room” to hide after such
encounters and my grandpa had been living in the “south room” separately from
my grandma’s “north rooms” for years now. I asked my mom why my grandma
wouldn’t treat my grandpa better, my mom used to say that my grandparents
fought their whole life and it’s like their ritual now. I don’t know if I’ll
ever understand that, but one thing I know is that I love my grandpa dearly.
I think it’s safe to say that I owe a lot to my grandpa for
what kind of person I am today. Despite all the discriminations for being a
girl, I am grateful that my grandpa was always there in my life to be the one
person that showed me love, showed me that I am worth fighting for. I am also
lucky to have found the love of my life, who reminds me so much of my grandpa, who
loves me for who I am and believes in me in a great deal, for that, I am
grateful for the great qualities my grandpa inspired me to look for when
looking for my husband. Thank you and I love you grandpa!
