twenty-seven: my pseudo popo

I've always been envious of my friends who have large families that always seem to have family events. Don't get me wrong, I do have a large family and we do have our own rituals such as Sunday afternoon dimsum, it's just that everyone lives in HK... and for some reason we're still stuck here. In many ways our friends here have filled some of the roles of family, and there are a few in particular that I hold especially close. The other day was the memorial service for my psuedo popo, or basically the closest person I've ever had to a grandmother, and a flood of memories has come back to me.

She was the one who looked after me when my mom was finishing her Masters and my dad had to support the family by working. I have vague memories of my time spent there, but I definitely remember the stories. I was one of those kids that loved to lie in bed with my parents before I fell asleep and I would ask them to tell me stories about myself (I know, narcissistic much?) and some of my favourite are with my popo. 

She always had a jar of candy, that my mom would forbid me to eat from, so whenever my dad would come and pick me up I'd always offer him some of that candy and I knew if he accepted it I would be able to eat some too. She knew how much I liked to eat, so she was there when I told my first lie, that I can't even remember telling (yup, kids can definitely start lying at a young age!), and my reason for lying was so I could go out for dinner with popo that night. She would sit there patiently as I explained to her my theory on how alligators were evil, and how we should be on alert in case one were ever to attack. She watched me grow up from a bumbling toddler to who I am today.

 

She continued to remember who I was even after the Alzheimer started to kick in, and every year her kids came back to town I would go to her family dinner. I was always invited to her birthday dinners as well, and I'm so thankful I had a chance to celebrate her 84th birthday this past year, even though it had to be moved up a few weeks. She exemplified a life well lived to the fullest potential. No, her name probably isn't one of recognition, and her achievements are nothing extraordinary in the eyes of the world, but she loved those around her. She loved her family, and she loved others. Because of her, I've been blessed with people in my life that I probably wouldn't have met if it weren't for her. She was one of those people who you knew genuinely cared about you when she asked about what was going on in your life. If I get to grow old and become a Chinese grandma, I'd want to be one like you.