2003

Photo taken in August 2014.

I visited my late grandfather’s niche at the columbarium at St Teresa’s Church. It’s a biannual family thing – once during the Qingming period and the other on his death anniversary.

I never met him; he passed away seven years before I was born. My eldest cousin fondly recalls him as a devoted grandfather who would always make her smile. She was only 4 when he passed away.

My mum remembers him as a strict and conservative father. She was born a left-hander, but my grandfather made her practise writing with her right hand. This habit has stuck since then. A strong advocate of education, he would supervise my mum and my uncle’s homework, even if he wasn’t well-educated himself. Today they have accomplishments I believe my grandfather would be proud of.

He also had an eagerness to learn. He recognised the value of learning English, and being good friends with my uncle’s secondary school art teacher, he would take lessons under him. My mum says he could read and write simple English. Not too shabby for a man of his time.

Then there is my grandma. Widowed at 53, she never once thought of remarrying. Each time she visited his niche, she would bring along a few stalks of fresh orchids in a glass of water despite knowing the church caretakers would remove them for fear of mosquito breeding. Then she would silently pray. What breaks and warms my heart the most is knowing she asked my uncle to purchase a niche next to/near where my grandfather’s one is – for herself. 

I wish I had a chance to meet him.