My earliest memory related to Grandma is looking through her collection of cosmetics. She had rows of lipstick and eye shadow in every color of the rainbow. As a little girl, probably four or five years old, I admired my grandma and thought she was very cool and sophisticated for having so much makeup.
Grandma was really beautiful. Back when we were kids, she loved painting our nails, she had tons of fancy clothes that my cousin and I loved to try on, and she always wanted to look her best when she went out. I remember her caring especially about which shoes she would wear.
In 1996, my mom, Grandma, and I travelled to Europe. I think we were in France, crossing the street, when a bicycle collided with Grandma. Mom was really upset and yelled at the bicyclist, threatening to report the incident to the police. Grandma was very calm and didn't seem bothered at all. She kept telling my mom to cool down, and eventually we left and went back to the hotel.
From a journal entry I wrote in 2001 during a family trip to Japan: "The next day, I banged my foot on a door, and it bled and hurt when I walked. So I stayed home with my grandma while everyone else went to a museum. I spent the whole day watching TV, painting my nails with my grandma's pink nail polish, playing card games with my grandma, and resting with cream on my foot. At home, I'm not allowed to wear nail polish, but Mom wasn't here today, and my grandma says it's okay! Yey! I won a card game on the computer tonight. Grandma said it meant good luck and fun tomorrow. Hope she's right!"
I remember sitting at Grandma's kitchen table in Taiwan and watching in fascination as she sorted through her daily pills. She had one of those weekly pill boxes with a compartment for each day of the week, and she would let me hand her the correct pills every day after dinner.
I remember how Grandma would joke about her false teeth, and I remember how cute she looked when she took them out at the end of the day. I loved the times when she really laughed. Her eyes and face would scrunch up, and she had one of those silent laughs, where her whole body would shake with laughter.
I remember last summer, when she insisted on staying awake past midnight so she could say hi to me when I finally arrived at Taiwan. Everyone else who had been waiting for me (my aunt and cousins) had eventually gone to sleep. I went to her room where she was lying in bed with her eyes open and her face puckered up like a prune because her false teeth were out. Only after she saw me and gave me a hug did she go to sleep.
I remember how Grandma came to my Pacific Music Festival concert in Tokyo, and how she really liked our conductor Michael Tilson-Thomas.
I remember one time at a hotel in Japan when I walked into the room, and Grandma was asleep with this purple cat-shaped eye pillow I'd given her across her face, and she looked so hilarious and cute.
On my last day in Taiwan, Grandma unexpectedly asked me to play something for her. I played "Meditation" from Thais, which is a short violin arrangement from an opera by Massenet. I thought she would like it, because Grandma used to be a singer. She was an amazing musician...Mom told me that Grandma left high school early, because she was discovered and invited to attend a prestigious music school. I remember playing for her in the living room, with her sitting in a leather sofa across from me. I didn't see what kind of expression she had on her face while I played. After I finished, she just said "thank you" in her usual quiet, calm way.
My last memory of Grandma is saying good bye to her before leaving Taiwan, a year ago. We took a lot of pictures before I left, with Grandma, Mom, my sister, my cousin, my aunt, and Grandma's housekeeper at the time. I remember hugging Grandma a lot before I left. I'm glad we did that. Her hugs were really strong, even though her arms were thin and frail. I remember that she would wrap her arms all the way around me and squeeze me tight. And I remember crying a lot after getting in the car to the airport, and not knowing why I was so sad. I was practically sobbing, even right after I walked out of Grandma's apartment. At the time, I figured I was so sad because I didn't know when I would come back to Taiwan next, and I wished I could stay longer...but maybe it was also an instinct, some sort of subliminal message from God that this was the last time I'd see Grandma.
Rest in peace.
