As much as I believe in Chinese customs and superstitions, I can't help but feel really bad about myself sometimes. It is now after the Chinese "Ching Ming Festival" when we were supposed to pay our respects to Meng's grandmother who is buried in Springvale. I had been there once. It was a respectable burial site, the kind of cemetary where there is constant upkeep and the surroundings not at all errie but instead eludes peacefulness and serenity. This year however, because I'm turning 29 years old according to the Chinese calendar, I am not in the most suitable age to visit sick and dying people at homes and in hospitals, and to avoid going to less auspicious places like the cemetary. This is not something that I made up myself. It was indicated to me In Feb when I visited the temple where I always frequent in Malaysia.
Both of my own paternal grandparents have long passed away. I have no memories of my grandmother because she left soon before I was born. My grandfather even after he was gone, I still feel it is surreal. He was such a strong man. He was quite tall for an Asian man and muscular and always stood and sit with an excellent posture. Whenever we went to visit him in Penang, he would climb up to his roof to pick guavas and buah cikus for us from the branches that overhung the top of his house. He always seemed to be in the pick of health. He was not ailing but the very opposite. Unfortunately, he contracted lung cancer when he was 80 from the constant smoking during his younger days and towards the end of his life, he was delirious, very afraid and paranoid. Before he took his last breath, he said he saw my deceased grandma and she is here to take him away. But he was scared and my step-grandma said he did not want to leave.
I never did pay much respect to both of them even if my Grandma alter's in JB in my house. Her ashes are in Penang, in one of the temples there and her spiritual remains in Sin Hong Moh, my grandfather's shop. I heard her once when we stayed there during one of my holidays in Secondary School. It was such a wierd experience for me. She was a Nonya and she wore cork slippers all the time. I woke up in the night at 2-ish in the morning and couldn't sleep from the heat. My family members were all around me. Then I heard the sound of corks on hard wood. It was distinct and loud just along the corridor outside the room. It went back and forth, back and forth for a long time. I was frightened. I kept on praying and tried to wake my sisters up but none of them stirred. I was immobolized. I knew it must be her then.
The sound always stopped for a minute or so outside our bedroom door as if hesitating and then continued. I thought to myself how I would react if I actually saw my grandma coming into the room. It went on till the first break of dawn at 4am when the roosters crow, and it fell silent again. It was unbelievable. I knew she must have wanted to see us but I also know she did not want to spook me so she was just prancing up and down outside. I told my mum the first thing she woke up and she comforted me in saying that I should be brave as she is my kin and she will never hurt me. Now, thinking about this still sends mixed emotions through me. I know how kind-hearted my grandma was when she was alive. At her funeral, all the beggars in town came to pay their respects as it was her who gave selflessly all the time. But alas, she was too superstitious and she believed she would lived up to a ripe 80 years when she fell prey to breast cancer at 50 and was in the last incurable stage when she finally relented and sought medical help. I do not know her personally but I know it was superstition that killed her.
Now I have 2 maternal grandparents left. I know they will be here for a long time and I loved them dearly especially my grandma. She is my inspiration, my guide in life and I truely treasure her. They are much luckier people because they know how much we all love them and the extend to which we would go to make them happy. I always feel I'm so much more fortunate because I have fond memories of 3 of my grandparents compared to some others who have none. They run in my blood and I am proud of them and contented with my heritage.
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