Saturday, April 2, 2016

Old People Teach You The Greatest Lessons

Note to self: taking that 30-minute train ride down to Springvale to visit my grandaunt and granduncle is possibly one of the best decisions that I have made during this easter break. Staying over for the night is also the next best thing. 

I've promised them countless of times the past 4 years I've been in Melbourne that I would stay over at their place some nights, whenever I'm free, whenever I can. But obviously, that never happened because I was too caught up with my own life and always leaving them on the back burner, only responding to them whenever the old folks decide to give me a call to check up on me. 

This time around, I decided that I should just stay over for one night and they have wifi, anyway. Called my mum up and she told me, "yah, just go. Go and stay with the old folks, it will probably help you feel better about things, you know? To clear your thoughts." 

It's a wonder how my mum always picks the right words to say, because when she said that it immediately made me feel as though I made the right decision. I gave up a housewarming party to come stay over at my grandaunt's place and to be honest, it wasn't the usual struggle to make a decision (I usually hate not turning up for social gatherings that people have cordially invited me to) (I also hate turning down people because, what if they will never jio me again in the future?). Perhaps I haven't been in the socialising mood the past few weeks so this whole social gathering thing did not interest me at all, so coming to the suburbs seemed like a perfect getaway. 

My grandaunt is about 70% blind but she still cooks, cleans and gardens. Last night, she called me asking me what I wanted to have for lunch the next day when I came over, and I have been craving fried beehoon with her homemade chilli for the longest time, so I asked for that. She laughed and also threw in the surprise that she would be making curry chicken for dinner since I love to eat curry chicken. I stepped into their cozy house and gobbled up 3 plates of fried beehoon - it was my only way of conveying my thankfulness and gratitude for these two old folks for always watching out for me since I came to Melbourne 4 years ago. 

(she even cooked pulau hitam and steamed 2 red bean buns she made the day before!)

My grandaunt also set up the guest room for me- clean sheets, towels and even turning on the small lava lamp (hello 2000s?). This afternoon, while I was catching up on my youtube videos, I've seen how my grandaunt and granduncle spend most of their afternoons. 

My grandaunt makes a cup of tea for herself and turns on the radio, she switches it to the cantonese channel here and tells me in the afternoon they do a cantonese radio show and in the evening, they do a mandarin one. She worried about the noise distracting me but I told her it's fine, I don't understand cantonese, anyway. 

I started coughing and she asked me if I had a sore throat. I was just clearing my throat, I told her. She asked if I wanted a cup of tea as well and then proceeded to make me a cup of luo han guo. It's the sweetest thing because she didn't tell me that it was for my throat, neither did she offer me medicine - she just simply made me a cup and told me to be careful because it was hot. She probably thought I wouldn't know that this tea was luo han guo, and that this was the exact same drink my mother always nagged at me to take whenever I was down with a bad throat, so she just made me a cup with the thought of helping me with that bad throat she heard just now. 

They're a loving couple, really. Granduncle's really quiet, he never really likes to speak but he's always the one driving his grandkids around, playing with them and also always hustling to come pick me up from the train station when I get there. Granduncle's small actions always blows me away, reminding me that love is not only noticable in huge declarations of love, but in small thoughtful actions, especially in old age. 

It's always the small things. He reminds me so much of my own grandfather, how he used to cycle to the market to get my grandma durians because she said she was craving it and taking full responsibility whenever my aunt comes home to discover that grandma had devoured 2 durians all by herself. My grandma can't eat durians due to her diabetes, but my grandfather never cared for that. As long as grandma got what she wanted. 

My granduncle sits on the chair on the right side of the television and stretches out comfortably on it while watching his HK drama. But when my grandaunt walks out in her pjs and is all ready to join in on watching the drama, with literally NO communication needed, he slips down and sits on the floor, legs tucked in under his butt, close to the tv and close to her while she becomes the person that comfortably stretches out on the chair. He mumbles a few sentences in Hakka to her, I assume he's filling her in on the show and then, silence. My mother and I have stayed with them the first few nights when we came down to Melbourne when I was seventeen and she always tells me that that whole scene of them switching places and watching tv is one of her favourite scenes of them. Today while on the way to their place, she told me to keep a lookout for that, because, it's cute! 




I sent this to my mother a few minutes ago, before starting this post: Mummy, here's one of your favourite views. And mine, too. 

What I've realised, is that if you hang with them for a substantial period of time, old people always teach you the greatest lessons and remind you of the simplest things through their actions and sometimes, they don't even know it. 

Every time I come up to visit them, I always learn something new from them and get to hear of stories about our family I've never heard before. Like the other time, I learnt about how they met in the small factory in their kampung and one of my favourite things is listening to them tell me about how much my grandfather used to spoil me with buying the things I liked - he always chose the prettiest dresses at the market for me, and how he used to be the one to voluntarily carry me whenever I was crying. 

“你的公公最疼你的,每次都买东西给你,每次你哭的时候都是他抱抱你上来上去”

People always tell stories of the dead to keep them alive, that was something I wrote a while ago and it's true, you know. Every time I talk to my grandaunt and granduncle, I always find a little bit of my grandfather's stories within our conversations. Listening to old stories and recollections always has this effect on me, like the memories are being ingrained in us the more we talk about it. It is almost very cathartic in a weird way. 

All in all, it's been a good Saturday away from the city and immersing myself with the good company of family.

It is always good to feel at home and at ease.

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